Parasol
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Part five of "Her Second Chance", narrated by Colonel Michalovich. When spies are suspected to be working in London, Hogan sends Colonel Michalovich and Carter on a mission to find the truth.
1. August 6, 1944

**Her Second Chance: Parasol**

**Note and Disclaimer:**** I'll be saying this every time. I don't own the characters to ****Hogan's Heroes**** nor do I own any of the songs I have posted. I would like to thank those who have created this series and those who have written these great songs. However, the character I have created in this series, Colonel Michalovich, belongs to me, so if you want to use her in any story you wish to write, please email me with permission first. This is part five of the story of the female spy Colonel Michalovich and the beginning of the adventures with Sergeant Baker, CBS's colorless personality radioman who has replaced Kinch when he left Stalag 13.**

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**Journal of Colonel Nikola Anna Michalovich, U.S. Army: LC8547960  
****August 6, 1944  
****Hammelburg, Germany: Luftstalag 13, The Colonel's Quarters – 2141 Hours**

_When I come to terms, to terms with this  
My world with change for me  
I haven't moved since the call came  
Since the call came I haven't moved  
I stared at the wall knowing on the other side  
The storm that waits for me  
Then the seated woman with a parasol  
Maybe the only one you can't betray  
If I'm the seated woman with a parasol  
I will be safe in my frame_

_I have no need for a sea view  
For a sea view, I have no need  
I have my little pleasures  
This wall being one of these  
Then the seated woman with the parasol  
Maybe the only one you can't betray  
If I'm the seated woman with a parasol  
I will be safe in my frame_

_When I come to terms, to terms with this  
When I come to terms  
With this whip lash of silk on wool embroidery  
Then the seated woman with the parasol  
Maybe the only one you can't betray  
If I'm the seated woman with a parasol  
I will be safe in my frame  
I will be safe in my frame  
In your house, in your frame…_

I am drained. I have never felt such a way in a long time now.

It has almost been those two months since our last radioman, Sergeant Kinchloe, had been killed (August 13 will mark that day). Our new radioman, Sergeant Richard Baker, has been taking over his duties, with much anticipation, one that I have never seen in a radioman for the U.S. Air Force. Not to mention, he has already won his trust from Rob, and very quickly, I might add.

The African-American, who came from the black 317th bomber squadron (he worked more on the ground than in the air, hence his abilities with the radio, switchboard and tapping into Klink's phone), was stationed in France as the war progressed and was captured when the Krauts discovered his unit. He and his comrades on the ground, as the report from London states, fought the Krauts but were outnumbered, the odds being three to one, those Krauts with the bigger odds. The next day the remaining men that were alive were transported to various camps, and some of them never to be heard from again. Baker was lucky and was not interrogated by the Gestapo, but transported, under conditions in which he rebelled against, to Stalag 13, where Klink confined him to the cooler.

And that was why our sly and mysterious Sergeant Baker was transported to the cooler instead of the barracks when he arrived here. It was just because he didn't like the way the Krauts were treating him on the way to Stalag 13 and he complained to Klink about it and received punishment. Damn, if only I _knew_ about that beforehand, or else I would have argued, alongside with Rob, against the strange tyranny of Klink. That fool of a German kommandant wouldn't know humanity from reality! If he could have even stopped the Shadow from killing one of his –

I don't even want to think about Kinch right now.

Even after these two months, I can still see his dead body, his bloody body, the one of which the Shadow shot. Even as the Shadow departs, he leaves his mark everywhere he goes, and Kinch was that one target here. Stalag 13 was the spot he visited because he suspected me of spying, and with Rob! Almost worst of all, I can't really even write of my anguish because I have been so empty of feeling, and writing in verse has always relieved me of what I feel…and this nothingness is…a darkness I want to be rid of. Sometimes I have a few lines of verse about various subjects, mostly Rob, and it helps, but this nothingness annoys me. It is always there to bother me.

I have come to know the small light Baker brought to our barracks. However, I will always grieve for Kinch. I like Baker's silly jokes about various topics, even ones on Klink, but even then my memory plays with me and always heads back to the time when Kinch put a coin in his eye, in a mockery of Klink's monocle, and made fun of him. I resent Baker for living through his ordeal. I know I have to stop this. Baker has been through a lot and I should respect him, as he does with me and the others here. Baker is here to stay as our radioman and Kinch was alive and well only two months ago…

I have to stop these thoughts.

You know, I rewrote that poem, from a long time ago, above to remember what it would be like to be something as stiff and material-like as a woman with a parasol in a painting. There would be nothing to feel, no death to think about and even no people to worry about but the storm about you, and even that would pass. Will I ever "be safe in my frame", though? I thought of that as I sang that poem last night, with that guitar our beloved Kommandant Klink gave to me on the occasion of Kinch's memorial service. So, instead of reading the German book on the history of France to the men (my eyes were tired and the men wanted entertainment), I sang a little song and the men were lulled to sleep by the hope that maybe, we'll all be safe and never betrayed because we are the people with the parasol above our heads, being protected from the storm around us – the Krauts.

I hear some thunder sounding off in the distance just now…one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand…there it goes again. It's about three miles away. Our bombers were supposed to get an ammo dump tonight at about 2200 hours (a very important one), so I wish that they didn't have to cancel the mission because of the strange weather we're going to have. That would mean that we would have to scrap Rob's plans (London asked us to get the weather conditions here and I guess that, with Carter's forecasts, they'd have to follow what he said, which was that it might rain, and head back) and calculate the weather again for them with the balloons.

That means fooling Klink some more. Originally, we said that we wanted a few weeks to celebrate some American holiday Rob made up (something about the height of summer and the coming of harvesting beer and such for winter, but I can't remember because it's so outlandish). I think we should extend it some more, anyhow. Tomorrow is another day to think about this, so I'll talk to Rob. Klink may be suspicious about us escaping, but Rob can persuade him otherwise.

In any case, all has been quiet. The men outside are sleeping silently and have had no threats from the Gestapo as of late (thank G-d) and Rob only rolls over in his top bunk chasing a dream as I write here on his desk, with the barest of candle light. Yes, we have candles now. I know that these candles are a privilege Klink gave us last week and that we should save them in case of emergencies such as air raids, as Klink suggested. This, I feel, to be something I should use them for, just in case…damn, it just went out…there, I got it going again. Newkirk's lighter, the one he gave me yesterday, is always useful.

I expect, at the moment, that we'll receive a message about that cancelled air raid and some insane assignment to destroy it ourselves. That, or calculate the weather conditions further and forward them to London so that they can schedule another time. It's all that make sense to me now.


	2. To London We Go?

**August 7  
****The Tunnels – 1245 Hours**

Another mission from London has popped up (for us to find out, for them for provide this time, if you want to call it that) and so we thought and assumed, as the message said, that it has to be another ammo dump, the one that the bombers were suppose to get last night, but couldn't because of the storms. The Krauts, those demons, shot most of them down, and out of the ten in formation, only three limped back to England alive. The rest of the pilots are dead, or possibly captures and being sent to us (in that case, we'll get them on their merry way soon enough).

Kinch Baker transmitted the message. Originally, it had been static and Baker had tried to receive the message, he only got this message as Rob listened in on the headset (and every one of us heard it over the headset):_ "Hogan…have your men…ammo dump…storm blew away plans and the Germans shot down seven of our ten planes…grab the…at the Monowitz camp…and…destroy…"_

After that, all Rob had had heard was static in his ear. I knew it was static, for he winced and tried moving the headphones from his ear. He needed to hear the message (whatever it was). Baker, in seeing this, tried improving the signal or tying to receive the message again, but it was for naught. Rob sighed and put the headset down. It wasn't even in code. It was a straight-forward message and a risk to us if Hochstetter and his Gestapo goons were listening in.

"What does this mean?" LeBeau asked, puzzled.

Baker still continued to get the other side to respond as he took the headset, but Rob silently put his hand on his shoulder, indicating that he stop. Baker obeyed and put the headset, which he took from Rob, down and shut off the power, probably knowing all-too-well of Rob's concerns and those worries that everyone never says: the Gestapo.

Since the message was not in code, then there must be something underhanded about it, and that was what Rob voiced. "London usually sends their messages in the new code they developed and this one _isn't _in the usual code. They know that this is a major risk, mainly with the Gestapo constantly monitoring messages being sent to and from Germany. That was why they started it in the first place."

"Worse, this is jumbled up," I added quickly, "which remains another mystery. London and the Underground usually have clear messages sent to us and vice versa. We know that the bombers didn't get that ammo dump last night because of the weather…"

"So, maybe the jolly 'ld London wants us to 'et it," Newkirk interrupted.

"Perhaps," I said, the rusty wheels of my mind starting again, "but what if this is another trap?" I heard a collective gasp before someone spoke up, and this time, it was Baker.

"You're suspicious about this Colonel Michalovich," Baker said with respect. I sighed, remembering that I was trying to get Baker to stop doing that. I don't mind all the pomp and circumstance of being a colonel (I never even knew _why_ I was promoted to such in the first place, but always liked to compete with Rob over rank when we were younger) but I do wish that the men here would speak to me like a normal human being, much like Kinch did.

_Please stop thinking about Kinch all the time. Baker is another man; don't judge and compare him!_ I thought as I answered the dubious sergeant…and Rob, as a matter of fact. He crossed his arms, as if demanding an answer, and waited for me to support my theory. "Well," I started out sharper than I had wanted to, "for one thing, all the Nazi spies in England know our codes if they worked successfully within the Allied Command. Our secret mission to that ammo dump was secret – note that I said _was_ – and the only way for someone in the Kraut side to have found out is when there is a spy. And then, there's that message. Now, why would High Command want to send us a message and not bother to put it in code?"

"London and the Underground are cautious as to _whom_ they send messages to," Rob continued for me as if he was suppose to, "and always send their messages in code lately. We are also always informed when they decide to change the code."

"Then why would the spy send it like that?" LeBeau asked.

"It could be a cipher in and out of itself for the Nazis," I said, "and the confirmation they need that we work as an operation here. We could fall for the trap and do what it said to, destroy the ammo dump and do that rescue mission it suggested. It's a theory." I shrugged my shoulders. "Someone at Headquarters could have been sloppy and hasty in their message, but I doubt it. Nobody in their right minds there would transmit that, not even someone new. They would have been trained carefully."

Rob was impressed with my theory, for usually he does the thinking for the both of us and this time it was me who came out with what probably has happened. He unfolded his arms from his chest and said, "The Colonel is right. Headquarters in London, and the Resistance and the Underground for that matter, wouldn't be that careless. The Nazis could have a spy there and that spy might be sending us a message and using the static –"

"As a ruse to get our signal and an excuse to find our operation," I interrupted stoically, not all revealing what I feared most of all: yet another Gestapo takeover of Stalag 13. Although I knew that Hochstetter and his gang of goons were still recovering from their little incident with Vundel (who, by the way, was standing trial for crimes against the Fatherland, and also the disappearance of Webber, and has been sentenced to death). I and anyone else here wouldn't put it past them to try it again because of suspicions.

There was silence before Carter, for the first time, spoke. "Colonel, what i-is Monowitz?" Both Rob and I turned to Carter, but none of us can say what Monowitz was nor did we know who Carter was addressing, but most likely it was Rob.

Either way, I don't know if Rob knew, but I couldn't speak it out loud. The Shadow is there; he took so many lives I cannot begin to count the ways he did it. Monowitz, of course, is a part of Auschwitz, and I believe that it was the largest part of it. If we really had to grab somebody there, then the Nazis meant business or they mean to trap us. And I, for one, will never go back there again, unless it was under the circumstance to save another or the whole. I will never send anyone there. If there was another rescue mission to undergo, then I will go, and I will go alone.

I spoke some of my thoughts out loud to Carter, and more generally, to the others too. "Monowitz is another part of Auschwitz, Carter." I paused, and, pondering what else I could say, almost stopped dead in my tracks, but I had to tell them. "If that was really a Nazi spy and he was transmitting something _not_ in code, and saying something about ransacking someone there, then it could be a trap. Any one of us could go there and be stuck there dead if we're not careful."

"Then the 'atter is finding our spy," Newkirk said.

"If there is such a thing _there_," LeBeau added.

"Exactly," Rob said, "so we need some people to head up to cheery, old England and infiltrate where our spy and stop their business."

Rob's words did ring truth in them too: we need to find our spy and have him, or _her_, eliminated from this game. This was why I volunteered for this mission, and with many reasons I might add. Of course, everyone argued against it, save Baker (who most likely didn't understand the uproar anyhow) and tried to dissuade me of this idea.

After I silenced everyone, I sighed and looked at Rob, giving him my most defiant stare, the one that always made him laugh. Rob kept a poker face (he was getting better at doing that every time, and it infuriates me sometimes) and said, "Colonel, it's a dangerous mission."

I grinned and replied, "Danger is my middle name."

LeBeau, Baker and Newkirk laughed and Carter was confused. "Why would 'Danger' be a middle name?" he asked. "I mean, I c-can understand if it was a guy's name for a gal's middle name. Now, it could be a Louise, or a Sue, or even –"

"CARTER!" the five of us said in unison. Even Baker was annoyed. He learned quickly of Carter's childishness and his lack of common sense, the latter I'm finding a better description of our best explosives person.

Carter did shut up, as everyone else did, and listened to my reasons why. "Well," I said trying hard not to giggle because of Carter, "for one thing, I know High Command in England and its ground systems better than everyone of you here. And don't argue with me about it," I growled at Rob as he was about to protest. "It's true. Nancy and I were given the opportunity to view and memorize each participant in the operation. We were also given ample chance to be intergraded in the organization and we _became_ part of the system, much more so than here at Stalag 13. That was a reason why I was hesitant in joining the operation here at Stalag 13, because if I was captured and tortured on one of these insane missions, I could have easily given out all the secrets to the Allies' operations, old as they are and possibly changed anyhow. Plus, if any of you were told by me all of these plans, the same could possibly happen to you, and when you didn't mean to either."

I looked at Rob. "Colonel, moreover, the more people who come to England to weed out the spy I suggested that there was, the more suspicious the Krauts are going to be. One colonel gone, with a man, might be acceptable to Schultz just as long as there is an excuse for it, but if two colonels, or even two men and a colonel or two, went to England, then the rest could be in a sticky wicket. If the rest return too, the operation here could be well shut down and we'll be at given a firing squads' appointment, something we have to keep." I stopped, and didn't even give my final reason. This was enough to digest.

"Mad'm, who said you were going alone?" Baker asked.

"Like I said," I replied less sharply to Baker, "the more who go to England, the more suspicious the Krauts will be and the more likely our tunnels will collapse for good." I was kinder to Baker in my reply this time and I'm regretting my brusque words to him earlier; at least he was becoming a little looser with me around. But I think he was hinting at me that he wanted to come, or that he wanted an extra set of eyes for me. I don't think Rob or the others told him of my reckless behavior yet. Or they could have told him and he thinks I need one to keep an eye out for me, like I said.

"But there's got to be another reason why you have to go alone," LeBeau pressed.

"Of course there is," Rob said, rubbing his forehead because I knew he was getting a headache again. "Because the Colonel here is a skilled manipulator and can easily hit the memory banks of many spies. Having another person around could easily break her game and forfeit her plans. Because we all know the weakness of every man here is…"

"Girls!" the three of the four enlisted men said simultaneously.

The fourth man, Carter, was doubtful, and for one, thinking. "Colonel," he said, addressing me, "what if the spy happens to be a woman?"

Again, Carter was hitting on a point. I smiled and knew that I found my volunteer to come with me to England. I also knew Rob was thinking the same thing for his headache was gone and he was staring, almost as he found something extraordinary, at Carter. Except this time, I was the one who volunteered Carter, the latter of which was giving us colonels a shocked stare because we were looking back at him apprehensively.

Still beaming, I said before Rob could joke about this, "Thank you for volunteering to come with me, Carter. I know you'll do a fine job in watching out for me."

Everyone laughed, even me and Rob. Carter, however, was dubious as how he had himself chosen as helper for this next adventure. It went as far as Baker joking about it. "Are you sure you want to bring Carter?" Baker asked, still laughing, "Your mission might be going up in a blast."

Hilarity and much back-patting followed Carter, even as we all climbed back up the barracks in a hurry a few seconds later by Morrison. Roll call was announced and Schultz was searching for Rob once more. Klink wanted him in his office about the behavior of the men in Barracks 14, yet again. Their marketing deals have given Klink a headache.

Before Carter could go up the ladder though, he gave Rob the _saddest_ face he ever created and asked, "So, I can't use the balloons anymore?"


	3. Final Plans

**August 9  
****The Emergency Tunnel – 2400 Hours**

The plans are being played out as we speak. Carter and I are all set to move out in a few hours. Rob's little scheme of keeping Kommandant Klink, Schultz and the rest of the guards, for that matter, preoccupied with me being sick will have their heads turned as Carter and I head to England. Already, a dummy is in the place in my bottom bunk snoring and covered, a 78 record playing under the bunk as me snoring. Carter's replacement, a man from the Underground, is here now and up above sleeping in his bunk (he will stand for him in roll call).

And in the meanwhile, I'm fresh out of ideas of how we can trap our spy. Carter keeps asking me what I had in mind to nab him or her, and, after about the millionth time I've been silent, I said, "Carter, in due time, I'll think of something. First of all, let's get across the Channel and get to Headquarters safely without the Krauts becoming stir-crazy. Second, let's see how things work out and then we'll work out some plot of action."

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said meekly, and he sat back down. We were waiting in the radio room for our false identifications to be processed correctly the last time he asked, but we were more or less ready to leave. All we needed to do was wait (and wait and wait) for Rob's signal. As soon as I went missing in roll call and Schultz and Klink investigate the dummy (me being sick), then Carter and I moved on to the emergency tunnel and will wait for the cost to be clear of guards and dogs. Apparently and obviously, the dummy passed Klink's test and Schultz sees, hears and knows nothing anyway. We're all set.

Our identifications cards are ready, our clothes are packed and we're ready to go. I'm bringing this journal with me, no matter how dangerous it might seem. If the Krauts catch us, then they might find this, but as soon as we reach the coast and cross that Channel, then we're more or less safe from their grasp. They wouldn't harm us or so I can figure out now. My neck, the indicator of danger (mostly ignored), hasn't been prickling, so I believe this mission will go over well, we can hope. When I think about it as a whole, though, I shudder. The trip _to_ England hasn't given me as much as a chill to the back.

Look at me, I'm rambling on over nothing! I must remain cool, calm and collective for my stupid self, Carter and the rest of the gang here. Besides, I should be happy: Rob has asked we keep in constant contact with each other, so just immaturely wishing for his voice when he's not there will be countered by this order. We have to use the emergency wave length and start with "England shall be free, and shall have her whole rights and liberties inviolable" and end with "singular his articles forever shall be steadfastly, firmly and inviolably observed." I tried to think of something a little different this time instead of the usual American documents we use, like Lincoln's Gettysburg Address or the Constitution. I thought that using lines from the Magna Carter was appropriate when heading to England, since they have started these civil rights. Besides, it'll be easier for the old chaps there to memorize when signaling to Rob if we talk to the right people and not to the spy…or the army lot of them, if there is such.

Oops…it's time to head out with Carter. LeBeau just came in here to say that the dogs were in the other direction and that the guards were looking the conflicting way, especially Schultz. He wished us good luck and reminded us of the Underground stations that were looking out for us daily, so to mind them and to EAT the food he cooked especially for us.

There was also a message from Rob, coming from LeBeau, concerning radio contact. I am to use codename Mama Bear instead of Desertstar because of the possibility of spies being about. If there is such in England, then I'd be in a sticky wicket indeed when I face my executioners in Berlin. They don't need to know the face behind the name.

Gulping with this tidbit of information and food in hand, I thanked LeBeau profusely (I had to suck up to him as he STILL thinks I'm too thin and always hands me food, wherever I may go) and I had to nudge Carter. He fell asleep. I have to get him awake and ready to run. He and I need to keep each other safe from the Krauts.

Damn, let us get through Germany alive. Let's have a safe journey out.


	4. At the First Station

**August 12  
****Underground Station in Münster, Germany – 1030 Hours**

Carter and I have been running away from Stalag 13 for three days now, across the damned country called Krautland, and have landed in the first station, which is countless miles away from Hammelburg.

I thought that we had wasted too much time already. We were _supposed_ to get here late in the afternoon yesterday, but because of a Gestapo patrol in the woods of just south of Essen, Carter and I took a quick train ride from Essen to Münster. We had our fake German money ready to use, so there wasn't any suspicions as we boarded.

Carter was, to note, very quiet on the way to the first station here and only said words to ask which direction we were supposed to be in or if we were at our destination yet. The former question I always had a retort for, because I knew the shortest route to the first station was. Also, I had been through Germany once before on the disastrous H8WC mission. I also knew my way from Hammelburg to Münster through all the other missions we have had, although it'll take a little more time to remember where to head to when we to go the second Underground station in Osnabruck.

The latter inquiry, by the way, was answered sharply with a "No, Carter" and a sigh. This lasted until we reached the first station very early this morning. It is run by one of the Underground agents, codename Utopia, and his wife, codename Southern Cross. Both of them are elderly and carry loyalty to the Third Reich, so says their papers and the uniforms in the closet. Who knew who else they carried this loyalty to as well? _Damn, this mission already has me suspicious of everyone I come into contact with._

Rob did inform me that, although all the Underground stations are to receive us and know we're coming, etc., etc., all agents in Germany for our side know that we're just going to England, and that's all. It is presumed that we're escaping, or even being called there, but they don't know the real reason we're heading there. I trust that Carter wouldn't be searching for any women on this mission (he's pretty good about it) or talk to anybody about what we're truly doing in England. I trust him to keep to himself. Already, he's doing a fine job and I only had to elbow him once in the ribs during breakfast.

Utopia had come out of the kitchen with his food and asked us the nature of the mission, as we were heading back to England. Carter started to babble in his German accent, "Oh, we're just going to get –" I was sitting next to Carter on his left and caught him in-between spooning some oatmeal into my mouth.

Utopia was baffled why I did that to Carter. I think he knew the secrecy of this mission when I replied, "We're just going to England on an assignment of utmost importance and its nature is unknown to us at this present moment."

The dining room in which we ate in was suddenly silent except for the scraping of spoons against bowls. Southern Cross was sitting next to me, keeping her eyes down, in fear that we were Nazis, I believe. Carter, rubbing his chest, knew that he couldn't be trusted to talk at the moment, so he let me smooth over the road for the next few minutes. Carter knew, as well, that Utopia was extremely distrustful of what we were going to do, what we might be doing in this mission and why he and the others were not informed of what was going on.

That was why more questions were raised by Utopia as we ate. He sat down at his place at the table and, after spooning some hot oatmeal into his own mouth, asked away. "Then why did Papa Bear send you? Does he know what you're both up to?"

Before Carter could speak and create more trouble, I talked. "Utopia, I don't think Papa Bear would know what such activities London wants us to execute." I almost winced at the word "execute" because it reminded me of so much, in its greater meaning. "If he knew what assignment we were given, we would have known for sure. I know he wouldn't keep such a great…undertaking…from us if he didn't know what it was to begin with."

Southern Cross raised her head and asked her questions. "So, you have no idea what you are to do? This is only some mysterious mission?"

"Frau," Carter said seriously in his German accent again, "like she said, we have no idea what we are to so or what our job is. All we know is that we have to go to England."

I can tell you that I appreciated what Carter was doing: using his German accent to fool others. I knew that it would come in handy, and with my German, carefully not integrated with my Yiddish and Russian, we could head in and out of Germany without trouble. All I have to do is keep calm.

However, their interrogation was not over yet. Utopia asked, "And what are we to call you two? Papa Bear only said that you were coming here and using the usual code, 'We must move forward' and we have to reply, 'And why should we house two houseless renegades?' He mentioned no names."

I was baffled with this one. What _can_ they call us two without arousing Gestapo agents and everyone in Germany alike? If I said I was Desertstar, one of the famous agents of the Allied Forces, then it could cause a risk for everyone. I especially don't want Carter caught in the middle of this either.

I said, "Let's just say I'm a colonel of the United States army and my partner here is a sergeant of the same army. Refer to us by rank and if there is Gestapo or any other patrol, it is 'Andrew' and 'Nikki.' That would be sufficient." I finished breaking my fast by that time and continued. "I'll be packing up soon and heading to the next station. Thank you for housing us."

Carter took the hint, of leaving them to, so to say, digest what I've said (no pun intended) and followed me in our room despite him not finishing his breakfast. Our quarters, by the way, are in the attic – small but cozy and secret. Only a panel in the wall on the second floor will open the doorway that leads up here and if anyone thought about it, they could see from the outside that there is an attic with a very small window in the back, but there is no entranceway inside. It has a barn/farm feel to it, and sleeping in the back gives me a feeling of freedom.

Everything is ready to move for tomorrow morning. Carter is beside me here and is stretching his limbs and readying himself for a nap. We've already traveled many miles and escaped Gestapo agents and patrols and still have miles to go. Sleeping will do some good for us, spending three days without any. I think I'll follow Carter into the shores of sleep. These cots never looked so cozy before…


	5. Escaping the Gestapo

**Later – Dusk  
****Train to Bremen, Germany – 1832 Hours**

I don't know exactly where we are, but that we are on a train heading to Bremen, Germany, which is a settlement, a few miles to the shore and the boat that will take us to England. The schedule here says that at about 1930 hours we'll be there and then there will be another train that will head to Bremerhaven, a town closer to the shore. I wanted to head to Wilhelmshaven, which is closer to what I wanted to be, but according to Rob, there have been more patrols there that have been watching out for any suspicious activity, so I pushed Carter to the train, at wherever we were previously after leaving Münster, to Bremen.

You might wonder why we're in charge of our journey now and not heading to the stations and seeking help from other agents. I _know_ that we were supposed to be at the second Underground station at Osnabruck, but I have deemed it too dangerous. Rob will be worried, I'm sure, but I'm also very certain that we'll run into the Gestapo there as they did in Münster. It was a close call!

Carter did suggest that we go to the second station at Osnabruck, and check it out just in case it was safe, but I countered him. Our spy (if there is such thing) might be involved in our journey to England and might know where we're going, hence the Gestapo at Münster. The Gestapo may be following us and I can't risk the two of us going to Osnabruck. Carter understood and even searched for the train schedules and had escorted me to the one at 1730 hours. So far, there has been no Gestapo agents chasing us and my neck isn't telling me about danger. I believe that we're safe this time.

Rob already has probably heard that there has been a Gestapo massacre at Münster. He couldn't believe that I'm dead, because he knows that I can survive anything (not that I'm invincible or anything). But I can't believe what happened at Utopia's came to pass. I can't comprehend the demise he and Southern Cross must have suffered as the Gestapo came into their home and demanded why they housed Underground agents and accused them of such before shooting them, most likely. We could have been a part of it, but got away in time.

Carter had corked off about the time I finished writing last (_Silence at last_, I thought as I laid back and relaxed). I was ready to fall asleep too, but something was bothering me. Although my neck hadn't been troubling me, it had started to prickle and it intensified as I moved closer to our attic room's doorway. I was curious about something, but somehow knew, at the same time, that if I went downstairs, something _will_ happen to us. And soon enough, I knew what it was.

Although the door and the window at the head of our cots were closed, I could hear some sirens and men stomping their boots out of their cars and pushing their way into the house. I then knew that the Gestapo was here. That was why my neck was prickling.

From the door, I ran to the window. Crouching low, I saw what confirmed my fears. Yes, the Gestapo was around and in hordes. There were about six cars full of them, and (I thank G-d for this) Hochstetter was not there. He'll automatically think we're here and search every inch of the house to see to it. He also works in the Hammelburg unit, but I knew that he would, any time, would come out to any part of Germany and arrest those who he thinks are enemies of the state, and that Carter and I are.

Either way, Carter and I had to get out of there, and _quickly_.

Carter woke up to the obnoxious sirens and was alarmed in seeing me at the window and most likely thinking of what we can do to get of the danger we're in. He sensed it too, and drew his gun from his boot.

Turning around immediately, I said, "Carter put your gun down. Do you have everything packed up?"

"Yes, Mad'm, and I –" Carter started.

I knew what he was thinking about. "Carter," I hissed, remembering at the time that my gun, tempted as I was to use it too, was in my boot as well, "the Gestapo is here in herds and I don't think a two-person army will be able to take them on."

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter answered back and quickly, he put his gun away and gathered his bag and slung it over his shoulders. He then headed for the door with his bag, but I lunged for his legs and stopped him before he could get killed. My neck was killing me still as I was lying on the floor, scared.

I said, as Carter balanced himself again after I went for his legs, "Carter, Basil Rathbone must be having a party down here and we shouldn't interfere." He smiled, remembering such a time before this war I bet, and then I brought him back to reality. I just had to get him to understand that we're trapped up here and need to somehow get down to the ground from this attic and _not_ remember what we did in civilian life. So, as Carter stood there flabbergasted and I was suspended on the floor, I thought of it. It was so obvious and the simplest getaway.

"Carter," I said as soon as I let go of his legs and stood up, "do you have any rope?"

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter repeated as he unhooked the bag from his shoulders and handed the neat pile to me. "But what do we need it for?"

"Well," I said as I dusted myself off and heard the satisfying shattering of dishes downstairs, "if it's long enough, we can escape through this small window. I don't know if you're small enough to fit through the window like I can…and this is long enough, I think…but under no circumstances can we break the window. The Gestapo is all up at the front, and we're in the back of the building. If we can make it to the fields which is about…" I looked out the window briefly and figured out a distance, "…I guess a mile away, thereabouts. The Gestapo will be searching everywhere for us because someone most likely tipped them off, so we have to move quickly."

Stomping up the stairs stopped me from talking. _What if they heard me and Carter?_ It was all I thought as I motioned that Carter stay quiet as we tiptoe to the window. Carter followed my example and even helped me to heave that window open. Hard as it was to open the thing (much akin to most everywhere in this attic, it was rusty and needed some oil or some cleaning), I managed with Carter. The small window creaked open with protest, but at least I could go through with no trouble (I was thin enough). I didn't know about Carter, though.

Carter had taken the rope from me and tied it to the nearest thing, which was a corroded hook hanging above the window. "Are you sure you're tying that tight enough?" I nervously teased Carter as he finished tying the rope and helped me to position myself to go down.

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said as he took my bag and put on his shoulders next to his.

I was anxious to leave, and especially get out of the way of the Gestapo. So, with my reckless behavior, I climbed out too quickly and before Carter could help me to steady myself, I went down the rope, but I held onto it, persistent in not falling. I went down the rope as I jumped against the house, giving my hands a friction burn, and waited for Carter to come down and follow me. He managed to squeeze out and carried our belongings too, tugging at the rope to have to come to his hands as he hit the ground.

Nodding and grabbing what was mine, we started dodging a group of Gestapo (they had just come around to the back) and jumped behind some trees beyond Utopia's farm. We stayed still for a few minutes and then left, running away from the group of Gestapo goons as they went around the house again. They didn't spot us, thank G-d.

I don't think we stopped running away from the Gestapo (Carter was behind me the whole way and didn't bother to look back) until, about a few miles down the road and beyond the fields. We had found another train station then. It was the perfect way to escape and avoid detection, but it was not a guaranteed safe way out of Germany.

With some money Carter had on him (from the counterfeit vault of our tunnels, of course), we bought tickets and waited for the next train out of the way of the Gestapo. I didn't care which direction we went to (we just picked a random town), just as long as we were not followed or caught. Well, all and all, I think we went too far away from the coast but at least we were away from danger. It was a waste of time, of course, but I think Rob will understand. Safety comes over a mission, in my opinion.

Still running after we reached our next destination, wherever it may be (I wasn't paying attention t anything, even distance, and was only concerned that the Gestapo wasn't following us), Carter and I headed for the nearest abandoned barn, which was a mile away from the train station we left behind. We settled there for a while and somehow, in this mix of worry and stress, I fell _asleep_. I hadn't had any in a while and the little nap before we left the Gestapo behind us didn't help me.

~00~

The next thing I remembered was being warm. That, and my neck was slightly bothering me. It wasn't a good sign at all. I needed to know where I was and what was going on.

A fireplace illuminated where I was lying. It was nighttime, or close to it for the sun was down or covered in clouds, shrouded in darkness. As I sat up, I saw that Carter was alive and well still and that nobody followed us. He was poking at the fire and was startled to see me awake. He went over to me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I thanked him and went to the fire, trying to figure out what was wrong with this scene.

"It was n-nothing, Mad'm," he said as he wrapped the blanket closer to me and held me from behind. Indeed, it was cold in here. _Where are we? And why is it so cold in here, despite it being the middle of August in Germany? Did we head too far east or something? Are we near the Eastern Front?_

As Carter held me from behind, rubbing my shoulders (the right one ached a little), I asked my questions. "Where are we, Carter? And how far away is the Gestapo? I didn't bother to keep track of where we went or in which direction. It's my fault, I guess, but I was more concerned about the Gestapo."

"I don't know where the Gestapo is, Mad'm," Carter said as he finally let go of me. "But we a-are in Bie…Bie…"

"Do you mean Bielefeld, Carter?" I asked. _So, that was where we went._ I had suddenly remembered asking the person who sold tickets where we could head out, and where the last stop was, and he mentioned that it was Bielefeld. That was _way_ out of the way and far from the coast. We went east! _But we're not near the Russian lines yet._

"That was it! Bie…Bieli…Bielu…?"

I sighed. "It's Bielefeld, Carter," I said again, "and we're miles away from the main course."

I took off the blanket, warm enough as it was. Carter may be protesting this, but the wheels in my mind were already creaking again and another plan was coming into motion. We needed another plan and we needed it fast. I knew that we were far away from where we needed to be, so we obviously need a faster way of transportation (and not walking) that would get us to the shore and to England before our week and a half is over.

"We need to head north and not east, Carter" I stated (the obvious). "I don't want to head to Berlin, much less Stalingrad. Are there any train stations nearby and not the one we just got off? There is a civilian station at the second Underground stop in Osnabruck. But we can't risk heading to the next Underground station and it's too far away from here, I believe." I rubbed my forehead, not believing it being almost a year since I traveled across Germany the last time.

"And the Gestapo is everywhere!" Carter said.

"Did you say _everywhere_, Carter?" I was suddenly given this burst of energy by this statement. I was so worked up in hearing of this that I was at Carter's face and shaking his shoulders before I knew it…or he did, for that matter. "How far away are they from here? Did they follow us? Did they even _notice_ us?"

Carter gulped audibly. He had a hard time in replying to me, but I got what I needed before he could stutter badly enough. "The-there are cars g-going by ever-every now and t-then. I-I d-d-d-don't think the-they noticed us. W-w-w-we're in a b-b-b-barn f-far a-a-a-aw-way and no-no-nobody w-will find us the-there."

I stopped shaking and let go of Carter, calming down enough to speak serenely and with sincerity. "Thank you, Carter," I said, "but I get excited when 'Gestapo is everywhere' is said. And if there are patrols coming by every once in a while, then we need to get going and we have to go in the cover of darkness, avoiding suspicion. They would suspect something if we were here. If not, and just walking to the nearest train station, we might be safe, depending on how stupid they are."

I sighed. "So, we need to extinguish that fire, gather everything and head out. Now, is there a train station nearby? It can't be the one we got off of, remember." That was the second time I asked the last question, so it was imperative to seek its answer.

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said, recovering from his scare, "and it goes to Bremen."

"That's less than thirty-five miles from the shore thereabouts," I remembered. I started to pace the small room we were in (I tried not to throw up at the smell of human waste and dirt) and trying to figure out where we can go from there and to put out that fire for it might attract attention. I knew that the Gestapo would have us in a sling if they saw us in here, "homeless" or not.

"Carter," I finally said, stopping mid-step much like Rob does, "do you know what time that train heads to Bremen?"

"Well, Mad'm," Carter said, calm as a cucumber, "it leaves at about five-thirty and h-heads to someplace called Bremen, and then there's another train that goes to someplace called…called…now, I knew it, it was something that began with a B…Bre…Bra? Or was it Brimer…?"

"Bremerhaven?" I asked, exasperated, remembering German towns along the coast.

I smacked my forehead as Carter said, "Yes! Bremerhaven! And then, there are ships and boats there, I think, that g-go to England." Carter then grinned at me, as if he was a child that knew he did something good, smiling and waiting for his reward. And indeed, I was impressed, despite my frustration. He looked into the train schedules with me in tow and he thought ahead instead of thinking of his explosives. He even answered me with adequate replies, despite my excitement and beforehand, stupidity at shaking him. I should congratulate him. But should I right now, in our time of danger?

"You've done a great job, Carter," I said deciding for praising him. "How long is it from here to the train station?"

"About less than half a mile in the opposite direction, Mad'm," Carter said beaming, "and I think there's an Underground agent is a conductor t-there. His name is Ivan, but I think his codename is something like Dragonfly."

_How does he know all this?_ "Good job, Carter," I said. "Now, do you think we can get rid of this fire and head out? I don't think we need the Gestapo a second time."


	6. Agent Dragonfly

And so, here we are. There have been no incidents in getting from that barn to the train station. Indeed, Carter in right when he said that Ivan the train conductor was an agent for the Underground and someone we can trust. I tried to talk normally to him after which Carter and I paid for our tickets and boarded, presenting our identification cards.

I whispered to Carter as we waited in line, "Let me see if he's one of us." Nodding his head and not bothering to protest this time, Carter went ahead, but he stood off to one side inside, watching me, as if he wanted to rescue me if there were any hazards in my way. _Rob most likely ordered him to do so and to watch every move I do. _I sighed with this thought for all I wanted to do was see if there any reason why Carter and I can trust this specific conductor. And if so, can he supply us with the information we need? Can he tell us if there was something wrong at High Command?

After presenting my ticket to the person named Ivan, whose eyes followed my every move as my papers were accepted, I stepped off to the side and said, "Excuse me, I need a light." Moving away so that everyone else could board, I saw, in the corner of my eye, that Ivan had motioned for another conductor, who was inside to watch the people, to take over his duties of checking identification cards and stamping tickets. This was what I wanted him to do. I think he understood that I wanted to be alone for a minute and probably that, as a gentleman should check, I needed a light for my cigarette. I didn't need the cigarette this time because I wasn't nervous, but that I wanted to trap him and check that he is one of us.

Ivan himself came over, just as I planned, and pulled out a lighter. I saw that Carter moved towards the doorway from his post inside of the train, but by just giving him one of my menacing stares did he move back. He stayed still, as I wanted him to.

It was then that Ivan came up to me and asked, "Do you need a light?"

Pulling out the pack of cigarettes that Newkirk gave me a week ago, I pulled out a sweet dream come true and held it out for Ivan to light as with the other hand I put the pack back in my jacket. The light from his American Zippo lit the small, darkened place besides the train's entranceway; the skies were darkening and it was almost a reassurance to see light after so much darkness and cloudy skies.

"Every time I looked out my window, I can see the brightness…and I need one badly," I said quickly, indicating the cigarette needed to be lit. The other train conductor behind us, I saw, was staring at us suspiciously, but smiled as Ivan lit my cigarette from a lighter produced from his pocket. He understood what Ivan was doing and minded his own business. Perhaps I was a lady friend he wanted to talk to privately?

Ivan offered his arm after putting his lighter away as I puffed away on my dream come true, something I didn't need but appreciated anyway. I took it, taking notice that my neck wasn't bothering me (this was a good sign). Ivan then led me away from the crowds at the entranceway of the train, and further down the pathway I never noticed before.

Besides us, Carter was still watching me from the window, and continued to as he, I saw, went into one compartment after another, making sure that I was to be all right. He kept bumping into everyone on board and I could tell that he was obviously nervous, whereas I wasn't. I _knew_ that there wasn't anything to worry about with Ivan and even if there was, my neck would tell me. I haven't listened to it ever, but now, especially on this important mission, I have to yield to something others would smirk at.

Ivan had led to towards the back of the train, and as far as I could tell, Carter was still following us inside (in spite of my orders to stay put and to let me handle Ivan). My arm tightly into his, Ivan stopped someplace darker than what I had wanted to be in – probably to ensure that we weren't being watched, but mistaken, hopefully, for lovers. He heard my code, and it was time for him to volley. Whether it was for better or worse for us, I couldn't figure, but my neck wasn't bothering me.

Still in his arms, the conductor embraced me as I put out my cigarette on the ground and whispered in my ear (a light German accent in my ears), "There are many dangers about, Desertstar. Why are you here? I thought, like all the others, that you were going to be the second station in Osnabruck. This train goes to Bremen, and then to the shores for England. Surely you couldn't be going –" He broke away from me, as an upset lover would do, and waited for my answer.

Could I trust him, though? Is he reliable enough to help us get to England and back without the Gestapo behind us and an execution in the near future? I didn't know.

I thought quickly of what to answer Ivan with, but had no ready answer. I found that I was speechless and not being able to reply.

There was silence before Ivan spoke again. He knew what that matter was, dead-on. He is as meditative as Rob is and always knew what the issues were – the perfect agent, or double-agent, if such was the case. "So, you won't depend on me?" he asked.

"I wouldn't say that," I said feebly, almost spitting the words out. "There have been…holes in the system, we believe, and I am off to find them. I have brought a companion with me and right at this moment, he should be watching out for me."

As if on cue, Carter revealed himself in the window of a compartment of a train, a gun winking at Ivan. As I spun around to see him and the gun, I gestured that Carter put it away, lest he cause more suspicious upon us, and he obeyed me. _Stupid move, Carter_ I thought. I even gave him a fright when I gave him another menacing stare. Carter obeyed me eventually as people filed behind him to make seats in the neighboring compartments.

Meanwhile, there was silence afterward and no words to say to the conductor. Ivan, after a few minutes of more silence, had enough of this game of cat and mouse. "That is not a reason to trust me," he persisted to grab my attention. "I have been known to be a reliable agent to the Cause, and London has always called on me to –"

"I wouldn't know that, and there are no ways to prove it right now!" I said equally stubborn in my belief that he might be a fraud. Even though my neck hasn't prickled in danger, I still had to be practical and wait to see if Carter and I can trust this man and rely on his instincts to survive in Krautland.

"There are many," Ivan insisted. "For one thing, I knew who you were just by part of a code you mainly use as I lit your cigarette. Another one you use is 'Is this desert's star the one that seems to cover the starry skies?' Your reply is 'Yes, and it is the shining star that might brighten up this stage tonight.' It is just another piece of the mysterious figure you have become to the Nazis – they even have a file on you and Papa Bear, Colonel Hogan – and they are still searching for you and suspect that _you_ are such this character still. But there is no evidence because all those generals that saw you in Paris have mysterious vanished – dead."

"Anyone could have picked that up, dangerous as I have many codes," I challenged. I was thrown off by his information on who Rob is. Panic hit me, until I realized that my neck wasn't prickling, and I calmed down.

Besides which, I had no idea about those generals I saw in Paris, unless London had a job kill them all. It's a possibility.

"Not exactly," Ivan replied as matter-of-factly. "Everyone knows that you're a P.O.W. at Luftstalag 13 outside of Hammelburg and that you were placed there because of the shortage of medical workers – prisoners – and the quota of women that needed to be added there. I must say, there haven't been any more female spies who happen to be nurses caught and tortured. They also don't happen to be one of the most wanted by the Gestapo even as you're under their noses. I also know that you have been at Auschwitz for about five months, about the time you were captured in December 1942 to about late April to early May 1943. Your companion was Major Nancy Sarah Donovan-White, aged forty-seven thereabouts, who was your mentor and always talked you out of your reckless behavior. After being transferred to Stalag 13, she was shot on the confession she made that she was ringleader in H8WC, the group that was out to demolish the rocket that would have destroyed the Allied Forces permanently. You meanwhile, had been shot but partook in many of Colonel Hogan's schemes to wreck chaos in the area around Stalag 13. Now, if there anything else you want me to prove?"

Ivan's last statement was so arrogant, so like the Nazi's response to the problems the outsiders caused that I had cause to pause. He knew too much and was much too eager to reveal what he knew to prove who he wants me to believe. True, he knew some intimate details of my life and knew who Nancy was to me (G-d rest her soul), her age and her Fate, but it didn't prove anything still. I needed one more detail, posing it in another code, of course, that nobody and I do mean _nobody_ knew outside of Headquarters in London (I never used it). So, as Ivan waited for my reply, I said, "Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes like they have any right at all to criticize…"

"Hypocrites, you're all here for the very same reason," Ivan finished, seeing my surprised face, knowing that I would now trust him discreetly and at my own risk.

After a lengthy silence, of which the other train conductor called for Ivan and me to come aboard, I said, as Ivan took my hand and led me back, with Carter following us inside, "Tell us what is going on at High Command later on, when you have the time. Make sure that nobody sees you and that if they do say that it is a social call to a lost lover or someone you saw as marriageable material, as you suggested and gestured earlier. Knock three times and just enter. Announce yourself as if we were meeting again."

"With much pleasure, to one of the best female spies in this war," Ivan praised me, much as I didn't deserve it, as we walked back to the entranceway of the train. He handed me back to Carter, waiting anxiously inside, and went in the opposite direction, towards the engineering sectors. I motioned that Carter move back into the sections of the stalls. Carter too took my hand, as if _he_ was the lover, and led me to the back of the train where he was last, watching me in case of danger. He opened the door for me, and let go as I slipped into a seat and eased myself in a comfortable position. I was very tired and it had, indeed, been a long day – a _long_ week I should say. I closed my eyes and heard our compartment door shut. I knew that Carter too was tired and ready to crash on his seat opposite of me. But before sleep comes work and it is more important right now. I, for one, cannot be left off-guard.

"Carter," I said with my eyes closed still, "please don't go to sleep yet. Ivan is coming in later on, so wait for him." I yawned, and Carter followed me and did it two more times because he was so tired. He still needed his orders before he went to sleep on me, so I kept talking, loudly enough for him to hear and not the others outside. "Carter, we can trust him, to an extent. His visit later will determine if I want to trust him completely or not. Remember, keep your mouth shut and don't talk about why we're heading to overseas."

"You mean to England?" Carter said as I opened my eyes. I must have flashed my angry eyes at him (I was angry with him for speaking so out of turn like that again) since Carter backed into his seat across from me.

"Shut up Carter!" I hissed, sitting up and trying to get him to be serious. "There are ears outside and about you know it. The first rule in spying is to shut up and not reveal your intentions, especially in public places like this. Just…keep your mouth _closed_ and keep awake until we get to a safer haven. You know the risks in this. The job isn't over yet. Keep awake and keep to yourself. And that's an order." Carter popped his eyes out. He knew that my orders were not frequent, and when I issue them, I expect them to be followed _to the letter_. I was lost for words though. I was getting those headaches that Rob gets sometimes and I knew, without my neck telling me, that this was going to be a _long_ mission.

Carter, recovering from his fright, sat straighter in his seat, silent. Then: "Mad'm, are those the orders for now?"

"Yes," I said, smacking my forehead and shaking it in my hands. "So just watch out for Ivan. And don't go to sleep. _Please_ don't do that. Like I said, our work is not done yet, and the Krauts can't catch us like this. We have to stay vigilant and alert."

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said, knowing all too well how much tougher I was than Rob.

Damn, my neck is pricking, and I'm wondering why.

Oops, the door's being tapped. One…two…three times…is it Ivan? I must find out.


	7. Little Time Left

**August 13  
****Train to Bremerhaven, Germany – 2210 Hours**

It is getting late and the night outside scares me more than what Ivan said before we arrived in Bremen. Yes, it was Ivan who knocked on our door yesterday evening. He had taken longer than he had wished to, for there were Gestapo agents who asked, at a small town railway station, that they be picked up and Ivan had to cater to everything they asked for when they boarded. My neck prickled when I thought of them. Even beforehand, I thought there must be something wrong, and indeed, there are agents ready to skin us alive if we're not careful enough. They were next door to our compartment, so as soon as Ivan came in, he had to warn us to keep our voices low. He advanced then to act, as if he were my lover. He seated himself and asked permission that I be seated in his lap. "If this can save us and get us to where we need to be, then so be it," I said as I accepted the ultimatum and hopped into Ivan's lap as he sat down. Although I knew that he wasn't as young as he wished to be (Ivan looked to be in his late fifties), I tried to be careful. Carter suppressed a giggle and attempted to appear serious and he succeed in doing so. Now, it was time to get down to business. I started my questions.

"Ivan," I began, "how much do you know about the doings of the High Command in London?"

"Well," Ivan began slowly and quietly, "I am an agent of the Underground. I try to listen in on the conversations of the people here. Every piece of information I gain is transmitted to London. I usually do not interact with them, for I am a lowly agent. However, I _do_ listen in on some of things they do. I have connections, in Bremen, and in other places, that tell me of what happens in London and especially what needs to do done and what I can do."

Something in me chilled. My neck started to prickle at the mentioned of the doings of London. I knew something was fishy here, and somehow, I knew it wasn't this agent called Dragonfly. Indeed, he was slight and nimble, but he was invisible to those he wanted to see.

I popped the next question. "What connections do you have? Where are they?"

Ivan laughed. "One question at a time, Desertstar," he said, but then a dark look crossed his face. Next to us, the Gestapo laughed. Through the glass windows of the doors, I saw that one of them, in the hallway with a companion, indicated he was shooting someone by using his thumb and pointing finger in the mimic of a gun.

_Killing someone they considered lower than the dirt they walk on?_ I thought in spite as I turned away from the glass. For a split second, I experienced a deep hatred of those Krauts, but then thought about this mission and waited for Ivan to continue and this time, his voice was lower. "Desertstar, I have many connections everywhere I can go. I have contacts in Hammelburg and that includes Stalag 13's Papa Bear. I have someone watching out for Hitler in Berlin – another bodyguard working for us and reporting on Hitler every week he has off. I have someone watching the skies in Dresden and Görlitz in the east and also in Stalingrad, believe it or not; Erfurt, Zwickau, Siegen, Dessau, Munich, Saarbrücken, Frankfort am Main, Hof, Sassnitz…all these places I have traveled to through this system. I have met agents and have contacts connected to them so as they board. I receive their reports as I entertain them and report to England as I can. Of course, I have someone – two people actually – who have a radio in England and pass my information to Headquarters. Their codenames are Hansel and Gretel. They gather the crumbs I leave behind me and feed them to the birds – the Head. Then plans are put into action."

"Can you tell us about Hansel and Gretel?" Suddenly, my neck started to bristle. There was danger about. I squirmed in Ivan's lap as I looked about me and saw that a Gestapo agent, the same that used his fingers in a mock gun, passed by our compartment and was staring at us as he stopped by.

Carter played along quickly, as he noticed who was around, as the elder brother who was concerned about his sister by standing up and yelling at Ivan, "No, you cannot have my sister! She's the only little sister I have and if you can think you can take her away again then you're just as bad as I thought you are!" I resisted my giggles, but if anyone looked on, then they'd think I was giggling with pleasure and not the attempts of Carter being the concerned, protective brother he thought he could be.

But, it was hilarious that Ivan even picked up as, like I was a doll, and seated me on his seat before yelling back at Carter as he stood up, "Yes, well, I can have who I please and nobody can stop me!" Ivan gestured profusely and used profanity before the Gestapo agent finally left us. I was relieved and my neck furthered that sense of safety. Ivan and Carter saw this and they both sat down again. Ivan eventually made a grab for me again and once more, I was seated higher than I expected. This created a better situation, and now, we're three people discussing if Ivan can have me as his wife. The argument was over for the moment.

"Now to Hansel and Gretel," I whispered and Ivan nodded. He gestures, his hands in front of me, as if he was bargaining for my hand in marriage. It was very awkward, but I soon became accustomed to it (after all, this is business and not for real).

I did hear what Ivan had to say about his contacts in London. "Hansel and Gretel are both German born, as I am, and moved to England as soon as the war started. They remained on good terms with Germany and used this as means to work as agents. They are also a young couple with a young child, so this adds to the danger. This also explains their codenames. It is the favorite story of their child, so they use it as their codenames. Berlin knows who they are, but the Underground reports have indicated they are not on a wanted list. I find this strange."

Ivan scrunched up his face. "If Berlin knew about an agent, then they would have a file on them and watch their activities. For this couple, they have nothing. I have begun to suspect them especially when they insisted that they never use the codes from the books that London says to use. I am uneasy with this, since I talk with them, but I do as they say. I complained about this risk to security, but I am told by London that they are reliable people and to do as they wished no matter how far-fetched it is. I obeyed, but am quick and vague with my reports to me. I still am not sure about them."

"Good thinking," I said. "Is there anything else?" I adjusted myself in my seat and spoiled myself by staying comfortable. _Will Rob do that for me sometime?_ I thought childishly.

I was about to receive my answer when the train conductor from earlier came into our compartment, angry. "Ivan, you are wanted up front. This is no place for you to make your marriage bargains. The Gestapo is here and waiting for you, so you better make this quick. They suspect you of some treason. I keep saying something about your lady friend here and then they laughed. They sent someone here to make sure you're not conspiring and they saw arguing and sent me here to check everything again."

"It is all that I dreamed of," I said with a sigh (to be frank here, I only use it playfully against Rob as I tease him, so this adds to the effect, and it worked). Playing the part, I continued. "I never knew that he was all. I met him years ago, and never saw anything of him until now. Oh, marriage has called me again!" I hated being dramatic.

"Not if I can help it," Carter said in his fake German accent. He sounded angry, as rightfully as an elder brother should be.

"Well, I hope the plans are finalized soon…after Ivan gets his ass up front and stops socializing with the passengers!" the equally angry train conductor said as he opened the doorway wider. As Ivan picked me up and placed me back in my seat and left quietly, the conductor slammed the door shut and departed, dragging Ivan by his ear like an unruly child.

As soon as everyone was out of sight, Carter spoke. "What do you think we have, Mad'm?" he asked me.

I shook my head, and replied to the senseless Carter in my obviously fake British accent, "Well, Carter my comrade, I think we have two little spies, a child caught in the middle of it and jolly old England in danger of being blown into little bits – such a great shame."

"Yes, this is a great shame," Carter said, switching to a perfect British accent.

I laughed, the first time in a long time. "Yes, Carter," I said normally, "and it is a blessing that you know what the situation was before we boarded. Good job, on all accounts. Now, we need to get to whatever is left of jolly old England and save it…"

**August 15  
****On the Ship **_**The Black Pearl**_** to England – 1450 Hours**

Carter and I have safely reached the ship that leads us to England only half an hour ago. Our trip to Bremerhaven was uneventful and silent, considering Carter. But we did reach the place safely and have walked, without detection, to the shore for a few miles this morning where _The Black Pearl_ waited for us, to take us to England. The captain of the ship personally knows Jimi, wherever he may be right now in these seas, and let us on without any trouble after explaining where we needed to be. I think he remembered me too. I usually saw him at Bridgeport fishing when Rob and his brothers took me to the beaches.

This helped to get us on board, but they were troubled by the appearance of Carter, who they don't know. At first we were banned from the ship from one of the more cautious crewmates, so I had to explain where we wanted to be, what time we needed to get back to Germany and that I had a companion whose loyalty to me I couldn't explain. I also said to give us two days, for it'll take a few more to get back to Stalag 13 without the Gestapo trailing behind us. So, it is to be the night of the 17th that, at 2200 hours and no later, we are to leave England behind us and we'll land at around 2400 hours. It'll only take a day or two, without rest, to reach Hammelburg again on the 19th.

It was after all of this explaining and dealing that we were allowed onboard and given top priority to get to England and back. Therefore, we are arriving in ebullient, old England in about another hour, and then another will be needed to get to London via train (if there's any) or, if we have to walk, perhaps half a day.

That leaves us with little time to motivate ourselves and talk to Hansel and Gretel. We need to move quickly.

I talked to Carter as soon as we settled ourselves onboard. He was at the stern of the ship, watching the coast of Germany disappear as we moved back to Allied territory. I came upon him quietly enough, but he sensed that I was behind him. Before he could talk some nonsense about some little thing or anything, I cut him off. "Carter, we have reached an important part of the mission. We have to be cautious from here on and that's an order. Speak as little as possible until I give the word."

"Why do we have two days, Mad'm?" Carter asked. He heard me talking to the ship's captain, but didn't ask me anything until then.

I sighed. "Carter, we have two days because we're on a tight schedule. We wasted time escaping the Gestapo when it was not needed. Partially because of my stupidity, we have stalled our mission. We haven't even talked to our home base yet!" I paused. "Now, we need to talk to whoever may be at Headquarters, investigate quickly, bag those people we need to get and head out. Remember that Colonel Hogan only gave us a week and a half because our planes couldn't carry us there. There is too much risk in having planes carry prisoners of war to and from Germany. What would Major Hochstetter think when he catches two prisoners of war being carried to England and one of them happens to be a suspected spy who happens to have an extensive file in Germany, which is including one in the personal office of Himmler?"

I shuddered visibly when thinking of the hazards we run into as we operate a sticky business under Stalag 13. I run the most risk. I personally am suspected by Hochstetter to be _the_ spy Desertstar, and he's correct, but he has no proof. So, if Hochstetter caught up with me, then he would be granted the greatest honors of Germany. I personally know that after Tiger, I am the most wanted spy on the Axis side. Even Hitler has placed a price on my head, appointing Himmler to motivate the Gestapo to catch me and Tiger. So, whoever does so will be awarded generously and given the highest honors that Germany can bestow upon them. The executions are said to be awaited by the highest personal in Germany, and I for one have no care of seeing my comrades and myself staring at some shiny guns or hanging from a noose.

In quickly thinking of this, I also thought of Carter and how he felt. I regretted my harsh words with Carter, but this was the reality that he has to face and playing with a spy whose back has always felt guns is dangerous indeed. This is why it was in my best interest to protect Carter as much as I can, and better than I did with Kinch when the Shadow was at Stalag 13. But I need to have more patience with him, and I also needed to apologize.

I sighed again and this time it wasn't of frustration. "Listen, I'm sorry, Carter. I got very carried away with my worries and this delay must have the gang back at Stalag 13 worried. But like I said, we have two days to get in and get out, so we need all of the energy we don't have to continue. I can't tolerate any more problems today. I know it's disappointing that you're stuck behind me. I am seriously protecting you. I can't risk losing you." I stopped right there, never forgetting the last time it happened.

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said. "What are the orders?" I was glad he got to the point quickly. I loved Carter for doing that at the moment.

"Just…stick to what I said and stay behind me for a while," I said. "When the wheels start to turn in my mind on a plan, I'll let you know."

With that, I left. I stayed at the middle of the ship above the rooms below, writing. The sea wind feels as invigorating as those three days I spent with Rob when we were ordered to England when the war started. It is all the sea can remind me of. The two of us were standing on deck, holding each other as if it was the last time and watching out for his brothers below. Jerry was awfully excited, being eighteen and the first time out of Sally's watchful eyes and even Jimi was eager about the prospects of being away from home, although I knew that he missed Jeanette and his daughters.

Bridgeport…it seems so far away. I miss it.


	8. Generals' Meetings

**August 16  
****London, England's Headquarters – 2315 Hours**

In these past twenty-four hours, with no sleep, Carter and I have been to a secret meeting with some generals and those in charge here, met Hansel and Gretel and have developed a plan on how to nab them as spies and get out of here alive and back to Stalag 13. After talking with the duo, whose child is mysteriously missing, I have developed a suspicion of them and have voiced my concerns to a General Alburtis beforehand (this also happens to be the General who ordered my transfer from medical unit to spying ring). He shares my beliefs (after I argued with him, to his, and the others', great displeasure) in these two and has encouraged me, after seeing him only an hour previously, that I turn them into justice. It also helps that I knew General Alburtis for a short period of time as the transfer from London to Paris occurred. So, you can say that I have a connection in a high place.

It was about 1700 hours when Carter and I arrived, safe and sound, to Headquarters in London. All through the trip to Headquarters in London, I still noticed the repairs being made to the city. When Carter and I arrived, I knew where to go: to find General Alburtis because I knew that he'll side with me on this. When acquiring information on where he was, I was warned, by a secretary (the General's aide not answering me earlier), that he was in a top secret meeting with other generals. Pleased for this information (but also displeased that it was given to me so easily), I dragged a trembling Carter as I searched for the conference room, someplace I've been in once, but remember well where it was.

It was a surprise then, to those three generals planning strategies and tactics inside the conference room in the center of Headquarters, that I arrived whole and unhurt with another comrade in tow. Well, I put them in their place, so to speak, with my temper. Other than Alburtis, there were Generals Clark and Milton, the latter two I never knew very well, but have had the honor (if you want to call it that) to meet them once before I left England for France.

All three generals were surprised as a colonel and her trusty companion of a sergeant barged in, with their best dress uniforms on (but weary from travel), and interrupted a meeting that we were warned about. But this spy is much more important, not only because they both can drip secrets to the Krauts, but they can foil the plans that these generals have been planning possibly, and they all should figure that out when I explain it.

Carter was behind me the whole time as he followed me through Headquarters like a puppy. I walked faster than I ever have in my life, for this was imperative that these generals know about this (General Alburtis works with the Allies' spy network, so I was sure he needed to know). Carter was, however, doubtful that we should break up a general's meeting. As we reached the conference room, after the security crew at the door cleared us, Carter stopped me. "Mad'm, are you sure that we can do this?" he asked me. "I mean, I can understand if you can bother Colonel Hogan, but this a generals' meeting. We could be court –"

"Carter," I said through clenched teeth as I was holding the door knob, "I don't care if they're planning the last strategy of the war and that we're going to win with this on a guarantee. This is much more essential and if they are not informed, then their plans will be in vain." And with that, I opened the door.

All three generals, scared that this was some assassination attempt or a takeover, as is usually feared in meetings like this, stood up quickly, but relaxed and grew angry as soon as they saw me and Carter, who was half-hiding behind the door and half-curious to see what was going on (or what _will_ go on).

I faced them all, and didn't even flinch when General Clark started his ranting. "Colonel, this is a private gathering. Surely you were told about this by our aides? Surely security had said something before you came through?"

"I was well informed, _Sir_," I said, always emphasizing Sir, "and what I am about to say is much more vital. If you allow me to explain and execute whatever arrangements I have, then I can get back to Germany with Sergeant Carter here, and –"

"Get back to Germany? What is it for?" General Milton said with confusion and anger in his voice. "Colonel, your place is obviously here in London. I can see that you're a medical officer and Sergeant…Carter is an airman. Surely, you both have no place in Germany."

Carter, smiling at this certain attention, stopped hiding behind that door and stood behind me. But I wasn't fooled. "General, Sir," I replied with my temper rising, "I know our place is where we land. We have no control over where we are as we are captured –"

"Wait, wait," General Alburtis spoke for the first time, this time calmer than his stilled but irritated demeanor. "Gentlemen, be seated. Colonel, Sergeant, take a seat." As I motioned for Carter to sit down in the empty seats in front of the generals, General Alburtis continued. "Colonel, if your assignment is in Germany, then why are you here? And why would you interject a meeting like this?"

Questions, questions and too many of them to answer! I knew these men, for such a short time, and was suddenly panicking. I childishly thought about Rob and the possibility that they would order me to stay here and break Klink's no-escape record. But can I trust them not to make me stay here? I knew where my assignment was until the end of the war, even on this voluntary basis – Stalag 13 – but at the same time, if I told them everything, then we can save this operation. I'll have to make this personal risk. "General, we have come here from Stalag 13 –"

"Colonel!" General Milton exclaimed. "Are you saying that you're a prisoner of war and that you've escape to bother us?"

"No, not entirely, _Sir_," I said. "This is a mission of utmost magnitude and we both have come here to make you aware of its contents and of what events might go on. We both have a trying journey coming here and have been trailed by the Gestapo most of the way and –"

"But surely they didn't follow you here," a worried General Clark said.

I sighed. I was becoming tired of the constant interruptions. When I was sure that my next answers were going to be complete, I continued. "With all due respect, General Clark, I do not believe that they followed us here. The only people who know we're here is our party at Stalag 13, possibly some Underground workers, the crew of _The Black Pearl_ and most likely the two suspected spies Sergeant Carter and I are in search of."

General Alburtis was suddenly curious. He folded his arms, much like Rob does when he's interested in a theory or an event that went into a strange direction, and stared at me. After what seemed to be a few minutes, the General said, "So, this is a mission to uplift a spy to come out, one that is in this area?"

"Yes, Sir," I said with much more respect (somebody was getting somewhere and not interrupting me, finally!). "It isn't one that we're looking into. It's _two_ who also have a child. I have no idea if the child is part of their plots or even how old he or she is. Their codenames, by the way, are Hansel and Gretel. We received information about them from a trusted Underground agent who works in Germany and has radioed the pair numerous times. He has mentioned that they never use the usual code that is required of all agents, but regular speech."

I paused. I only continued after General Alburtis, when his silent pleas for the name of our agent, did not hear any name come out of my mouth. "Our source said that they are strangely described as dependable agents who happened to escape from Germany at the start of the war and are suddenly on this side. About a week ago, we received a message, from a frequency wave 430, about our bombers' mission to the ammo dump. They explained that it was a failure, of which it was true because of the weather, and that _we_ at Stalag 13 needed to achieve the goal of the mission. They also mentioned a victim that needed to be…picked up at Monowitz, another part of the Auschwitz camp."

There was another silence. I was guessing that all three generals knew who I was talking about and disbelieved me regarding them. I continued anyhow, addressing all three of them. "The fact of the matter is, they are still risking these operations against Germany and Japan, spies or not. All I wanted to find out is if they are or not. But if they aren't, then why are they addressing us by our full names using our frequency ranges? _Why_ then would they not use our code or the codenames? Surely, they have the books and the means to obtain them, and if not, why are they considered to be the top spies here?"

My questions startled General Milton. Not only that, I _dared_ to accuse our top agents for doubles. He stood up and ranted. "Colonel, are you _out_ of your mind, or has that prison camp altered your way of thinking?"

I snapped back. I knew that I shouldn't and show respect those higher in rank than I am, but I had no tolerance for this _stupidity_ that day. "_General_, when was the last time someone actually _checked_ on who was on our side and who happened to be an agent for Germany? Do you _have_ any idea about –?"

"I've had enough of this nonsense, Colonel Michalovich!" General Alburtis unexpectedly said, amazing me that he remembered who I was. "You are posing a high accusation to General Milton. You should also know by now where your place should be."

"My place?" I replied back, this time chillingly, with a cold laugh to boot. "General, you _never_ knew where my place was. All you did was transfer me into danger only two lonely years ago –"

"Colonel, I'm warning you…" General Milton interrupted.

"– and all you did afterward," I went on without caring and my temper rose with every word, "was sit there, your back safely in that chair and desk, and watch as I almost killed myself. I endured it. I saw myself in hell and back. I saw myself reunited with someone I love the most and heard another being shot by the Gestapo. I have had to save the operation we at Stalag 13 have continued, despite the price on my head, countless times and sacrificed myself for this cause. I thought of everything to keep this safe, _Sir_, and when I theorize that someone is _not_ what they seem to be, and I want to investigate it, I _expect_ full cooperation and not some silly statement indirectly saying how womanly I am. I have a heart of a man when I need it! I need not to be told where my damned place is!"

Carter could only gape in amazement. I had not only argued and disagreed with generals, but also I bothered to use my temper against them to get my way.

Still breathing deeply and trying to suck in air, I heard the verdict from General Clark. "Colonel, you and Sergeant Carter here are dismissed. We do not need this disrespect or this outburst either. General Alburtis is right: you _should_ know where your place is."

Saluting them and standing up (how I still hated to do that), I encouraged Carter to do the same and leave. But I still had the last word, as I usually do and it was just an idea to get them to come to their senses. As I was leaving, I said over my shoulder, with Carter in front of me listening, "I value the time here, Sirs, and that you listened to what I needed to say, even if it wasn't to your liking. I just anticipate that these plans that you are thinking of executing are to go as scheduled. I surely hope also that nobody has them in their grabby hands."

With the corner of my eye, I saw that General Milton was able to protest this breech of protocol (that, and I had gone too far anyway), but General Alburtis stopped him. General Clark was also to do the same, but again, he too was stopped by Alburtis. I smiled sweetly to myself and knew that I had won this argument.

As soon as I turned the corner and stepped out of the conference room, General Alburtis called us in again. "Colonel, wait!" he said. I grabbed Carter, who was in front of me, and swiveled him in the opposite direction and directed him back to the conference room. As soon as we entered, General Alburtis spoke again. "Colonel, after closely going over what you have said and reviewing the evidence you presented to us, we have decided that you can scrutinize the activities of these spies." The other two generals were able to protest again, but were silenced by Alburtis. "Colonel, your last statement has gotten me to think about what would have happened if you didn't look into our agents and made sure that they are what they appear to be. I have heard that you have a keen sense of who everybody is. When it comes, you know what it can be and what can be done to prevent it. We therefore give you permission to go ahead with your plans."

Again, I smiled. _Bingo_, I thought as I saluted and said, "Thank you, Sir. You won't be displeased with this investigation and you will be appreciative of this."

"We should _hope_ so," General Clark said. General Milton faced at me with an irritated stare and switched his attention back to his papers on the table.

With that, we were dismissed once more. I turned to leave the conference room, but as soon as I left the room, I noticed that Carter was missing. Sighing, I went back through the open door and saw that Carter was standing there, still and saluting the Generals. Disgusted, I grabbed Carter and bid the Generals farewell as I dragged Carter down the hallway, shutting the conference room door behind me. We have more work to do, and much little time to do it.


	9. To Rosemary Lane Back

"Wow, gee wilikers, Mad'm, I never knew –"

"Carter," I cut him off as we walked down the hallways of Headquarters, "we have _no_ time for this small talk. We need to send the appropriate messages and head our merry ways to Hansel and Gretel's place. Remember we have two days? We only have the rest of today and most of tomorrow." Carter nodded and eventually let himself loose of my tight grip.

I was searching for the radio room. We needed to send our first message to Rob before we head _anywhere_. And after searching my mind for the way to the radio room, I was awarded with it after I randomly chose a hallway to follow. Carter, walking besides me, spotted it first. After verifying who we were upon entering (and trust me, it takes a long time, and the process is long and tedious), Carter and I were granted full access to the radio.

A corporal, who usually mans one of the larger radios here, allowed me his place, and, backing away graciously, gave me and Carter the needed privacy we craved. I hoped that Baker was on the other end and that the Krauts were not with their trucks that detect radio waves.

Using the usual functions of the radio, I fingered the buttons and got to the wave I wanted – the one at Stalag 13. "Goldilocks, this is Mama Bear, come in Goldilocks. England shall be free, and shall have her whole rights and liberties inviolable."

Upon hearing the opening lines of the Magna Carta, some of the men stood up in their patriotism, but sat down as soon they realized that it was just a code message when hearing no more of it. Most smiled and it almost made me laugh to think of those chaps so loyal to their country and king. I did hear some saying, "G-d save the King!"

At first I received static for a while, but was rewarded a few minutes with something from Stalag 13. I was ecstatic when I heard Baker's baritone voice on the other line. I could have cried with _joy_. "Mama Bear, this is Goldilocks, we heard you loud _and_ clear. Where have you been?"

"Just relay this to Papa Bear," I said. "We had a little rain destroy our parade for a while. Not only that, there is trouble looming in the horizon just as we predicted. We have names of the corrupted packages and are about to rip them open later this evening. Is there any interjection available in this excitement?"

Baker was about to reply to me, but I heard some arguing in the background – muffled voices – and it most likely interrupted what Baker was going to say. I think the remaining men there were fighting for who was going to talk to me and Carter. Rob would win in the argument for who was going to talk to me and I knew it. Before I could shut off the system, because of the hazard of having the Gestapo listen in, I heard Rob's bass voice. "Mama Bear, this is Papa Bear. Please repeat what you said to Goldilocks."

I repeated my message, verbatim (while in the meantime, I reassured him that Carter was perfectly fine, but needed some sleep), and asked, "Is there anything else that we need to do right now?"

There was silence on the other end, so I thought that I lost Rob or that he didn't hear me. When I tried to repeat the question, I heard Rob's voice on the other end. "Mama Bear, make sure to tell them that we'll get the dump that the birds missed. They wouldn't be as careless as to leave it in the open, would they?"

Then I realized what Rob was trying to do and it dawned on me what he had in mind all along. Carter and/or I will slip to our spies that we're going to destroy the ammo dump that the planes didn't get. In the meantime, Rob has another important place in mind (I don't know what it was, but I'll find out as soon as I get back) and will appoint another team to distract them at the unguarded place and getting that ammo dump!

I was not incredulous about this plan, but in fact, I was brimming with excitement. Because the only people who could have known the intentions we have are those spies we slipped the information to, easy as that! And if I told those generals back at High Command and if they approve (with Alburtis mostly on my side, then I should have no problem), then off Carter and I go.

I, with some glee in my voice, acknowledged Rob. "Right on, we're hitting two birds…three birds…with a single stone. Good thinking, old chap." I laughed, saying in between this, "The message is recognized. And what shall we old veterans of the force do in the meantime?"

"Carry the packages to where we want them to be," Rob said, simple as that.

"It is done," I said, but before I could say anything more, Carter interrupted me. "Colonel, can I talk to Newkirk?"

I covered the microphone just in case Rob and the other didn't want to hear this heated argument. Rob _did_ hear Carter asking and said, "Tell that package to put the tape on and to _leave_ it on." I bet that Rob had one of those headaches when he said that, too.

All I could do though was laugh again, saving Carter from my wrath for the moment, and said, "I'll make sure it's secured. And as for this Mama Bear, it is imperative to go and mail those packages. It is singular his articles forever shall be steadfastly, firmly and inviolably observed."

Rob heard this farewell and said, "Good luck" before breaking the signal. Before he took himself of the air though, I thought that I heard him say something. I couldn't tell; it was just a whisper, a light breeze. I sighed wistfully, wishing I was, seriously, back at Stalag 13 instead of here.

Carter brought me back to attention and the busy whirl we had to get out of. "Mad'm, we are we to do now?"

"It's more like this," I replied with some sharpness in my voice. "Why you were asking for Newkirk. What was that for? You could have put our necks into the open for Hochstetter and his goons of Gestapo!"

"Well," Carter said with some embarrassment in his voice, "I wanted to know what the outcome of the poker game was with Schultz…you know, the weekly game you play in with him. I was wondering if I won the bet that Schultz lost most of his pay again. I bet that he'll lose three quarters of it and Newkirk thinks it's half."

I smacked my forehead and said before Carter could speak, "We have to amble on over to Hansel and Gretel's candy house now, Carter. I don't think you'd want to miss the sweetness it's going to offer us." With that, I got up from the chair, a red mark to my forehead, and dragged Carter again before anything else could interrupt us. I could obtain their address here in England easily, and soon enough. We were wasting too much time already.

~00~

The Thames River of England roared silently besides me and Carter as we walked the damp, summer streets of London. In a concealed apartment on the farther side of this river, and beyond the railroad, lay where Hansel and Gretel lived. Receiving directions from Headquarters was a cinch, so to speak (and it was a major risk to the person who gave it to us). Carter, while eating lunch, was awkwardly talking with someone who worked at High Command and found out, to his surprise, that she worked with Hansel and Gretel and many times, she had to sneak away to their place of residence and exchange information. They both met and were eating at some café.

I watched them from the kitchens, which were next to the set of tables the both were situated at, following Carter even if we separated for lunch. From the corner of the galley, I saw him, although blushing, _talking_ to this lady for over half an hour. I constantly made use of Rob's use of watches ("Nikki, there are instances when watching the time is the best thing you can do") and every time I grabbed Carter's attention, I tapped my watch, indicating that we should be moving along and not socializing. He shrugged his shoulders as me, making me roll my eyes. By then, I thought we could get hold of more information from this woman he was taking to, so I listened in. _I could court martial that little twit._

This woman was an agent obviously and I saw, although it is not relevant to the mission, that she was a sergeant. "Sergeant, it's very easy to get there…at least, I _think_ I remember where it could be, but I'll give you some details…it's past the London Dock and Ratcliff Highway, but along the Highway…then you'll see St. Catherine's Dock, I think that's something to do with Catholicism, but I'm not so sure…"

I sighed. _Damn, this person was high-pitched and very…cheery for someone giving away free tidbits about our agents._ She was a bouncy character all right and I preferred that Carter stay away from her for a while until we finish this mission. He's usually better than Newkirk about staying away from the women, but _sometimes_…_sometimes_ Carter gets so involved that you have to lug him away. He acts as if he's at a U.S.O. tour and he can't overcome this obsession of the opposite gender.

But then I heard more from Miss Bouncy herself. "Yes, I remember! It's at Rosemary Lane Back. It's by the Blackwall Railroad, and it's _such_ a dingy side of London. I recall as much. And then there's that place…what was it? Garrick Theater, it's about a few…miles? Yes, it was miles north of it. Or was it south?"

I smacked my forehead. This is _another_ agent who might get us all into SO much trouble except she's bubbly and much _worse_ than Carter. I knew where Garrick Theater was, and it was _north_ of the railroad she was talking about. She didn't give us a house number, though, and it was bothering me. We needed to get going as soon as possible. Where was it? _Come on, my little sergeant…out with the house number!_

"Ummm, Sergeant?" Carter was attempting, at last, to create sentences. "Where is it again?"

I smacked my forehead again. I was getting _nowhere_ with this, so it was time for Plan B: walk on over, pretend that I wasn't listening to them talk and get the answers straight-out from this woman. Sighing, I casually walked over from the kitchens and seated myself next to Carter saying, "Hello Carter, Sergeant. Mind if I join you?"

Miss Bouncy was apparently afraid of officers, because she gave me a deer-in-the-car-headlights look. She stiffened up and wasn't as bouncy as she let Carter onto. She stopped her jabbering and saluted me, almost spilling her food to the floor. Rolling my eyes again, I saluted back and said, "At ease, Sergeant. All I want is a little information. Sergeant Carter here, I believe, was trying to get some here and all I want is some more. I overheard you talking about two agents that you work with, codename Hansel and Gretel. All I want to know is the _exact_ place where they live. I don't want any details on where they could be. I know London enough to determine where they could be and never get lost around here. So please, just _give_ us a house number."

Still sitting up straight, Miss Bouncy lost her touch, but answered me anyhow. "There is no house number," she said. "They live in a hidden apartment in the back of number 5690 Rosemary Lane Back. All you do is go in, it's a boardinghouse, and ask the lady there about the couple. She'll know who you're talking about and she'll let you up. All you have to do is say who you are, whatever code you know, and she'll let you up. This woman – she knows every one of them! She has been bothering the Generals here for every one of them, and they trust her enough to give them all to her."

My heart sank, but I knew that even if this woman didn't know who I am as an agent (and she might) then she might know who I am by code. "Thank you, Sergeant," I said through clenched teeth. "And another thing…"

"Yes, Mad'm?" Miss Bouncy asked me. She still had a nervous edge to her voice.

"Don't you _ever_ let out any information like that, to _anyone_, ever again. Who could you have known that Sergeant Carter here was a Nazi spy, or that he worked with the Gestapo for information? For all you know, I could have been an agent for the other side, too. You also could have endangered Headquarters, Sergeant, and if I catch you doing such again, I'll make sure you're in a court martial. Don't you _ever_ give out anything like that, and that's an order."

"Yes, Mad'm." Miss Bouncy's lip was quivering. Before Carter could say anything else to her for comfort, I grabbed him up from his seat (Carter toppled over a few chairs on the way, but he found his feet again) and we left. We have more work to do than to listen to this jabbering monster.

Ratcliff Highway, just as busy as ever, was near where Hansel and Gretel lived. As Carter scouted for clues as to where they might be and remembering what Miss Bouncy said, I stared to the south, where the Thames River was. We were at St. Catherine's Dock and fast approaching the mint. I panicked; I didn't know where we were exactly because it didn't seem familiar to me. I recalled destruction, not this new rebuilding. I tried having a vision in my mind about London when I first came here and learned every street corner, but it was hard. It had been almost two years since I was here last and trying to distinguish rubble for real building was harder than I thought. But it was good old faithful Carter who came out in the end. I was trailing behind him when he spotted Rosemary Lane Back.

"Mad'm, I f-found Rose-ruse? Or was it Rase –"

"It's Rosemary Lane Back, Carter!" I called from behind him. I was about to hit my forehead, but I decided that it wasn't worth it. You really can't change who Carter is, and usually, he can't retain information so it'll be best to try to avoid chastising him for a lack of common sense, hard as it may be.

Anyhow, from around the mint, I saw what street we were searching for. Indeed, it was one of the dingiest sides of London, but it was perfect for crime-infected souls…or even hiding agents who secretly talk to Germany while saying they're working for the Allied Forces.

"What was the house again?" Carter asked me as he stopped, waiting for me to catch up.

I ran to catch up with Carter and in finally standing next to him on the corner of Rosemary Lane Back and Ratcliff Highway, I surveyed the area. I dimly recalled being someplace much like this with Rob, but those hazy memories are too far to bring back. I looked to the east; a train whistled in the distance, coming westbound. Yes, we were near the Blackwall Railroad. I knew where we were.

Sighing wistfully, I said, "The house number is 5690, as your friend said. If she's right, then we'll be meeting some woman, and it'll be a boardinghouse we'll be entering." I walked upon Rosemary Lane Back and searched the house numbers, many of them being such as the one we're looking for: a begrimed boardinghouse. 4231…4239…we were on the other end of the street!

I spotted the East London Dock to my right before I saw what we were searching for. Number 5690 lay ahead in the back of these docks. Indeed, it was as Miss Bouncy said, it was a bit dirtier than the rest of the housing. Motioning that Carter stay behind me in case there was danger ahead (my neck wasn't prickling, but I knew to be cautious), I walked up the rickety stairs to the door, knocking the customary three times. A muffled voice answered me. "Who's there?"

With my sarcastic attitude, I was tempted to say, "Larry and Moe with a missing Curly," but I knew better. Frightened that at any minute that the stairs' structure was going to crack under me, I said, "It's only some visitors. We need to see someone of the greatest importance."

Carter, I felt behind me, drew his gun, but I hissed, "Put it away. I don't think there's any danger here." He put it away on this order, and just as he did, the door opened. The elderly woman that we were told about graced our eyes. She was short, _much_ shorter than me and Carter, and was hardened by all the years that went by her.

Quickly, and I love people for this, she was blunt and to the point. "I hear that you are visitors. But to whom? I have very few boarders here and they have little family and friends but each other."

"I think we should discuss this inside," I said. "There are many things that are not to be open for other ears."

Nodding, the woman opened the door more for us. As we entered, I felt my neck prickle. I didn't know if it was because there was danger for us or that Carter and I had to be careful around this place. Either way, I was determined not to ignore the fair warning this time and was more observant than ever before in searching for security loop holes. Inside, I rummaged around with my eyes, without moving from behind the woman, for anything that could indicate that this was a trap, but there was none. The walls and hallways inside were as sad as the outside stairs were. The walls were damp with moisture and black with mold (it also held some wallpaper, also peeling from the place where it was suppose to stick). The carpets were of a wet nature and cold rippled up my body, causing me to have goosebumps up and down my arms and legs. I think Carter felt the same way. The woman in front of us, however, was oblivious to what we felt.

The woman finally led us to some smaller hallway, a pantry. It was down the damp hallways and to the right, before the stairs that led to the second floor. _Is it just another rickety flight?_ I thought as the woman stopped us in this small hallway.

Turning around to greet us, she said, "Now, tell me who you seek."

Before Carter could say anything again, I spoke. "We request two people and their child. We want to ask questions, and fill in something that needs to be filled." I didn't know if I could fully trust this woman, much like when I first met Ivan, but I have to say what we needed and be as vague as possible.

The woman was not convinced, though. "We house no couple and child here," she said, "and there are only elderly people here, single and lonely, much as I am now. This war has made victims of us all."

_So says someone else and not me this time_, I thought as I quickly mended what I was asking. "Well, I hear you in the morning, and I hear at nightfall and to be unable…"

"Yes, yes, yes, we have such people here!" the woman interrupted me quickly and had Carter and myself turn around so that she can show us where Hansel and Gretel were. And down the hall a little bit, we went to the stairs. I was wishing for a sweater, or even Rob's warm arms and jacket but then isn't the time to think of such luxuries.

"You will be looking for those crumbs?" the woman asked as she led us up those stairs that I dreaded climbing. Just as I feared, they were as weak as I thought them to be, but at least they didn't crumble as we walked.

"Yes, we sure are!" Carter said.

Elbowing Carter again and breaking the promise of not attacking him as such, I said, "Yes, we are seeking Hansel and Gretel. We have important information to pass onto them." And so, Rob's plan was progressing. The woman knew _why_ we were here, just not what we are about to give Hansel and Gretel. _Be as unclear as possible and never let Carter know what's going on because he might not be able to handle it_. I knew I was underestimating Carter, but this is much more important and NOTHING has to stand in the way of this plan, and this includes the lacking of senses.

The woman led us in what seemed to be countless flights of stairs before we landed on some nameless floor number. I didn't even think to look how many stories the boardinghouse had, but I knew now that there were too many. We were at the top and there, in front of us, was no door, windows or anything to indicate that there was any life, or even an apartment, but some empty space.

Carter, about to question the emptiness of this space, was stopped when the woman came up to the wall, knocked a panel at her height four times and watched, with satisfaction, that it opened, and there was yet another flight of stairs. Sighing, I said, "Thank you. Is there any recognition code?"

"There is none," the woman said. "Just remember to close the door by tapping a panel at the top inside four times and the same to open it again. You saw how to close it." And with that, the woman went past me and Carter and quietly, and did she tiptoe, went down the stairs.

Carter stared after her for a while, and then said, "Who's going to knock?"

Sighing again, I said, "I'll go first, so stay behind me."

"Yes, Mad'm" was the answer I got, and it was obeyed as we crept up the stairs and walked into what we had been waiting for all this long week. My neck prickled, but I ignored it that time as I knocked the door closed and rang their doorbell.

~00~

Dammit, it's time to meet the Generals again. Alburtis, Milton and Clark requested our presence as soon as we came back and scheduled it for 0600 hours. It is now 0530 hours and Carter has woken up from this long night. I couldn't sleep and could only watch his sleeping form as I wrote. I can't believe that I wrote for six hours! The suspense that I left just now is killing me, even though I know already what has happened and what we are going to do now. In my heart of hearts, I know this is going to work, and I can tell that the end of the mission is on the horizon.

I seriously can't wait to arrive back to Stalag 13 and get over being sick!


	10. Hansel and Gretel

**August 17  
****Back on **_**The Black Pearl**_** to Germany – 2230 Hours**

And with much anticipation and eagerness, Carter and I are leaving England, until the end of the war we can hope, and going back to Germany. Carter is below deck at this moment, sleeping before we reach the coast of Germany and run from sight at Bremerhaven. I cannot sleep because of the tense excitement of this mission and the giddy success I feel in completing it. So much had happened from that tense moment when knocking on Hansel and Gretel's door, to meeting with the Generals, the call to Rob and then seeing those people off to where they should be. I think even Carter has had enough excitement for a while, and though I know that Hochstetter will surely come after me as I come back to Stalag 13, I will always remember earlier this day.

I guess I should start where I left off, when Carter and I arrived at Hansel and Gretel's place, so there shall I go…

The door behind us closed as Carter obediently tapped the panel on top of the doorway inside three times (I had to remind him to hit it another time) and hid behind me as I knocked the uppermost doorway. Behind it, I heard quick scuffling around and some clicking…from a machine? Although I had _thought_ I heard voices in another language talk (I couldn't be sure and should have been me hearing things again). I did hear, for a certainty, that there _were_ people on the other end of the door and that we were not alone.

My neck prickled. Again, whether it was for the trap we were going to fall in or that these people were who we were searching for, I didn't know. All I knew is that, for a fact, we found who the spies were. "Keep your gun within reach," I whispered to Carter as I knocked again. Mine had been moved from my boot to my belt ring, hidden from any prying eyes.

I waited a few minutes more. The shuffling inside had been silenced and I was afraid that these people knew what we were here for. At _least_ we weren't like the Gestapo and busted the door open. We knocked, so there was hope that it wasn't anyone that was going to threaten their well-being, and indeed we're not…no, we're here to destroy their ties to Germany.

I was about to open the damned door myself when some light allowed itself to creep into the hallway. The entranceway had opened and a woman appeared before us, worry lines crept on her face. She was tall and thin; her black hair was salted with white and dark bags were under her eyes (either from worrying or being tired, I could not tell). For a split moment, I felt pity wash over me, but just as quickly as it came, it left me. _We're on a mission, Nikki, and most certainly NOT here to uplift the spirits of some mother_, I chided myself.

"Yes?" this whispering woman softly called to us. The light was still slim and the door ajar.

"Gretel," I inquired, "we're here to talk to you and Hansel. We have some…crumbs to drop in the forest." I tried to stick to the story outlines as I remembered them as much as possible and to say, in another way, that we have questions and information for them. It must have worked, for the woman let me and Carter in with no problems. I mean, if we went past the old woman and she led us here, then Gretel _must_ let us in, right?

"I'm afraid our home is of sparse space," Gretel indicated to me and Carter as we went inside. Indeed, their apartment was small. Before us stood a kitchen and relaxing room all in one room, and to the left was a door that led to a water room and next to it, a bedroom. To the right, there was a small hallway, and right at the end was a small bed with toys littering its floor; there was no child though. My neck prickled when I thought more of what might have happened to the child, indeed if he…or she…is still alive.

I was afraid to ask, but Gretel seemed to have read my thoughts. "Our child, Marie, has been missing for some time now." There was sorrow in her voice, but some part in it somehow indicated that she wished it that way. I knew something was wrong.

"Have you informed the municipal services about this?" I asked. I panicked then, and knew, without a doubt, what had happened to the little child: she had been disposed of. Why, I will never know.

"Yes," answered Gretel. "Well, the old woman, Ursula McConald, does. She told them that little Marie was her granddaughter, since we cannot afford more attention because of our status, and asked them to find her. A picture gave them the idea of what she might look like."

"Indeed," I answered, noting that Carter took a seat at the kitchen table with some man I presumed to be Hansel. "We have more pressing business." The person I presumed was Hansel was fingering a mug of steaming coffee and its aroma hit me hard. I had forgotten how _much_ I had missed _real_ coffee. The coffee that they had here in England always hit home with me.

"Yes, please state it and leave!" a panicked man, Hansel, said, obviously paranoid about something, something I couldn't put my finger on. I turned away to keep him less fearful about such things, but when I quickly glanced into the next room on the left and saw the radio, set to frequency length 430, and then I knew. Before I let attention be bestowed upon me, I quickly glanced back casually, seeing that the radio was on, but it didn't have a person on the other side. My neck prickled.

Indicating that I seat myself too, Gretel and I sat elbow-to-elbow at their table. Then I started as Carter knew that he had to shut up and leave everything to me. "First and foremost, we cannot say who we are and where exactly we work for security reasons. But I can say this: my companion and I work in this cause deep in Germany and England. We have been assigned to destroy the ammo dump nearby where we work. Sources have told us that our planes, through careful planning, had been unable to do this. So, we were told to annihilate it again. Through the messages of those who operate close to us, I can relay to you that it is a go, and that tonight is the night we shall sabotage it. It's our second chance to get it."

"That was what we have been told," Hansel said out of the blue. "We radioed Stalag 13, or were told to, and I don't think that they received it. Do you work with them? Perhaps you can remind them of their assignment. Papa Bear seems hesitant."

"Maybe they did, but we had a lot of static," Gretel said. "And take it easy on them, dear. These people had a long journey from Germany perhaps…"

My neck was saying something that contradicting what was being said. I knew then that there was no trap for us here, in this apartment, but one _if_ Rob and I didn't plan this carefully. It was _if_ we had listened to their message, but we didn't because of what I theorized. And I have some evidence to prove it. It's only an assumption, but it's almost enough to have them bagged.

"Either way," Hansel said, "they have to get it. The resources there could win the war for Germany. Without destroying that dump, our side could lose the war and its efforts since the storming of France's shores."

That I could believe. _Anything_ could counter the efforts D-Day started.

Hansel continued, and it was much harsher than before. Was it because this trap was being delayed by us and the Krauts were questioning their loyalty too? "Stalag 13 should be reminiscent of their assignment. I should radio them again and –"

"Don't do that!" I said quickly, interjecting him on time perfectly and anticipating this. "My partner here and I will radio them from Headquarters on their usual radio length. Papa Bear will be reminded of what he has to do tonight, if it is all right with you. Now, if you can excuse us, my partner and I have to leave. As you've indicated, your security here is vital and we're already violating your private business." I sat up, with Carter behind me, and I created a trail back through the door and down the stairs.

Behind us, as I tapped the panel that opens us to the outside world, Gretel said, "Goodbye and good luck. And don't worry about Marie."

As Carter and I went out the door and shut it behind us, I had a shiver come down my spine, and my neck prickled, and it was more in fear of the child Marie than for me and Carter. I didn't know what was wrong with Marie or where she went, but I was determined to find her, dead or alive.

Ushering Carter down the steep stairs quickly, I reached into my old memory banks for something, _anything_, that might indicate _where_ these horrid parents took their child, but I thought of nothing. My mind drew a blank.


	11. Dead Certain

Carter and I exited the boardinghouse in utter darkness without the elderly woman hovering over us. Indeed, we didn't find her as we left and already, it was late (I think it was about 1900 hours, and then I remembered England does get dark early this time of year, but at least it's still warm). I knew that we had to reach High Command soon. We have to notify the Generals of our plans and radio Rob, except it won't be on the usual wave length we use like I told the duo that we'd do. This information drop to Hansel and Gretel was going to trap them: if we have extra security at that ammo dump, then they've been notifying the Krauts. If not, then we should have no problem in bombing both areas Rob has been aiming for.

Carter kept closer behind me as we walked down Rosemary Lane Back again, along Ratcliff Highway and cutting down back to the docks this time. I wanted to go back to our Headquarters in style and use a boat to quickly get back. Carter, I could see without asking, was appreciative of what I decided as we walked to London Dock. The boatman we met at the dock accepted the pound I had without complaint and let us on, only to drop us off at the bridge at Upper Thames Street. There was no dock there, but a walkway we had to climb to, but it was a far cry from walking the whole back.

There was much more to think about than getting back to Headquarters. Carter was the first to voice what he thought as we carefully climbed up the bridge and avoided the woolies at the same time. I knew that they patrolled the bridges especially and it wouldn't do if Carter and I were arrested for climbing a bridge because the boatman dropped us off there. I, for one, cannot be held in another cell waiting to head back _to_ another.

"Mad'm," Carter said desperately, "why did you give away that information? Colonel Hogan would be so mad at you for doing that! You can't just –"

"Carter," I interrupted again as we passed Apothecaries' Hall, "the information I _gave_ them was set up that way. That was what we had to give them to prove which side they were on." I paused as we passed a regular-looking man in the alleyway. I couldn't tell, through his normal facade, who he was, but whoever he happened to be, he disappeared into the alley. I whispered to Carter from then on. "And we're not using the regular wave length. If not used and tapped into by nosy people, then it gives the appearance of there not _being_ such a length, but one that is empty. No, we're using another."

"So, they're the ones who sent the message?" Carter inquired.

"Yes, Carter," I answered as entered Fleet Street, "and I'm pretty positive about it. They confirmed what I feared. We need to move over to the next step."

Carter gave me a childish glare. "Then why are you not negative about it? I mean, I know that people are optimistic about everything –"

"Carter…" I warned, getting a headache.

"– But you have to have a little doubt about –"

"Carter, SHUT UP!" I yelled. I lost my patience with him already, and in yelling at him, I probably woke up all suspicion on us from all those in the darkness, without a care but that we got back to Headquarters in one piece. I knew that I had to be patient and serene about his lack of common sense and his ranting, but I've had enough already. We have to reach the next step and tighten the rope on those spies.

Carter, might I add, was quiet the rest of the way to Headquarters.

~00~

"Yes, General Alburtis, I am certain about them."

Carter and I were once standing before the three generals that gave us trouble in the first place. Generals Milton and Clark were still on conference with Alburtis, but when they heard, from their aide, that I was here with more information they let me in. Their papers filled with secret strategies were hidden from me, compared to the rushed job of filing them together and hiding them. But at least the three of them were _listening_ to me.

Carter, as before, hid from them and then came out behind the door and saluted, standing in attention. I almost hit him in the back of the head, much as Newkirk does when he gets frustrated with him.

"Colonel," Alburtis answered me, rubbing his forehead, "you have created, as we've said, a wild accusation of two people we considered to be our best. They know Germany, they speak the language and they have even helped us determine which route we can take to invade parts of the annexed Germany."

"General," I said sighing and being happy that LeBeau wasn't here, "I could do the same thing and I'm _wanted_ by the Gestapo, who, by the way, have a price on my head. Everyone in Germany, if they saw me, would know me for my mother's daughter and would swear that we are alike in many ways and will even mistake me for her. But, this is _more_ than a feeling. The wave we received at Stalag 13 was 430 and the one I saw was the same. It was also on, but there was no opposite person and transmission. Both were anxious that Sergeant Carter and I leave. This could be interpreted as them wanting us leave for security reasons."

I thought of their child, Marie, and sighed. "But, at the same time, their _daughter_ was missing. Every parent's responsibility is to love, nourish and feed, shelter and care for their children. I have _never_ met a parent save for my mother that never cared for their child and were not in hysterics if they went missing. Both of them were more concerned that we _leave_. I dropped information that we were going to get the ammo dump that our bombers were to have gotten over a week ago, but didn't because of the horrid weather. In the process, another in the area will be destroyed and when the guards go to the engulfed base, the ammo dump they were guarding is to be destroyed."

"Colonel," General Clark said, "how do you know that this is going to work? I know that you and Colonel Hogan have planned this arrangement to trap these people, but there are flaws in this. For example, how do you know that anyone knows about what you are doing?"

"General," I answered, "Colonel Hogan and I are always vague when we transmit messages to each other, but we all know the codes we established. Indeed, we also seem to read each others' minds." I chuckled softly, but when I didn't see that those around me didn't find it amusing, I continued. _It's a private joke, Nikki, and they don't find it as amusing as you do. _"I knew what he was talking about anyhow. I dropped the tidbit that we were following what the message said for us to do, and Hansel and Gretel did admit that they sent us that message. They said it was orders from here."

"But there was no such order from here!" General Milton said.

"Exactly the point," I said. "So this simple fence-in will tempt them to radio the Krauts."

"That's only _if_ they do interact with the Germans," General Alburtis said.

"Yes, I'll admit that," I said. "But truth be told, my feelings have told me otherwise. There is other evidence that adds to this paranoid theory I have. I do believe that they are just as criminated here as we are at Stalag 13, working behind the Krauts' back except they are not prisoners of war. There is an old saying I have learned, Sirs, and it was 'Even the best fall.' Even in the most peaceful and un-warlike circumstances, we have our people who look out for what we are searching for. And as you all know, even who we consider to be the best fall into another cause."

There was silence after my speech and I was about to turn to the door when General Milton said, "Colonel, please radio Hammelburg and get this over with. Just…keep this place as secret as you can." I knew then that I was dismissed.

Saluting next to Carter, I said, "You won't be disappointed, Sir. We'll catch who has been doing this." Smiling, I left and this time, it was with Carter, who almost stood there saluting again.

~00~

The radio room was as busy as ever with the oncoming counter offensive that the Krauts are posing on us as D-Day plans progress and we head further and further into France and the Netherlands. There are also the attacks in Africa (Rommel is not there anymore, for his Afrika Corp, but the Nazis are a pain, nonetheless). I tried finding the same corporal that allowed us to use his radio and he was out of sight, without a thoroughly thought-of search. Against all the Colonels, Generals and other commanders of the different units and sections of each army, I found him. With Carter trembling behind me (most likely in response to the amount of generals here), I put a hand on the Corporal's shoulder.

Jumping up, the Corporal turned around and only found me. He relaxed and said, "Hey, sorry about that, Colonel Michalovich. I thought you were one of them over there." He indicated the group of colonels and generals locked up in a tight circle.

I laughed, and I felt Carter's grip on my coat loosen. "No need to salute me, Corporal," I said. "I was wondering if you could please let us use your radio again. This is top, priority one message to Germany, Camp 13."

The Corporal grinned at me, pulling out his chair for me, and said, "Anything for the top spy here."

I gasped audibly as I sat down, and almost angrily (more like annoyed, really) asked, "How do you know who I am?" He was the second person to have said that and I have increasingly irritating that people are referring me as such. I am _not_ the top spy of the Allies Forces. I can seriously say that it is a gross exaggeration.

Carter, again behind me and still gripping my coat, closed his eyes tightly and knew from experience that to anger me was to get into trouble. But this corporal didn't know that, and even if he did, he was fearless of me. He even spoke boldly. "Begging your pardon, Mad'm, but it's all here that you're around and searching for some double agents. Nobody believes that they are what you say they are, but since you never have gone truly wild, it's a given that you're right. It's also the gossip here that you and Colonel Hogan are a couple. _That's_ no secret."

The corporal then snickered at me, the most hilarious thing I've seen that day, and continued. I didn't even bother to laugh that time because of the Generals here. "It's about the only thing I can do for you anyway, Ma'am. I only help those who are associated with my former commanding officer, and he was a great man, even when he was captured. And anyone who interacts with him I can most certainly help." And with that, he left. I didn't even get his name or even what he meant by his former commanding officer. _Was it Rob? Most likely, because the only other officer I knew on our side at Stalag 13 is Rob and that is the only officer I work with_.

I didn't bother to chase him, nor did I give it a second thought. Turning the knobs once more and turning on that microphone, I said, "Goldilocks, this is Mama Bear, come in, Goldilocks. England shall be free, and shall have her whole rights and liberties inviolable."

I was happy when I didn't hear the usual static that came last time, but Baker's voice, loud and clear. "Mama Bear, this is Goldilocks. We read you _crystal clear_."

"Good," I answered. "Listen: we have dropped the false scrolls to the agents, and now we wait for them to pick up the mail."

"It's been done already and they took the bait," Baker's voice boomed for a minute before growing quiet. Some generals gave me an irritated stare, but I was more concerned with this than anything else. "Hansel and Gretel are about to be taken in by the old chaps. Do you read me?"

I was ecstatic. It came _that_ quickly! It was only 2210 hours and by then, Hansel and Gretel are being interrogated about their activities with the Krauts. Our side came in quickly!

But then I had a thought. I think Germany was a few hours ahead of England, so yes it would have been done quicker than I thought it was going to be. "Yes, I hear ya, Goldilocks. I just didn't think the mail would come so early this time of year for us." I paused for a moment before saying anything else. "I am also very happy that the grounds have been cleared out."

"It was the perfect lie," Baker responded in a mocking British accent, making me giggle and snort (the Generals were staring at me), "and the chaps over there don't seem to be so happy after all."

"Now, those two can't be that happy over their just prize," I said. Knowing that I had to leave, said, "And singular his articles forever shall be steadfastly, firmly and inviolably observed."

"Good job, Mama Bear," Baker said, coming back to normal in voice range. "Are there any message for Papa Bear?"

I struggled my shoulders, as if Baker was there in front of me, and said in the microphone, "No, no messages for Papa Bear, Goldilocks, lest he wants me to embarrass him in front of the top men here and you chaps over there." And with that, I turned off the radio, sighing. I had forgotten how much I missed Rob.

"Ma'am…what are we going to do now?" I had forgotten that Carter was gripping my coat behind me.

I pushed his hand off of me and said, "Well, Carter, we're done with our mission. And unless the Generals here have anything else for us, then we can leave tomorrow night. More to the point, we can sleep, Carter."

"That's good to know, Ma'am," Carter said as he yawned. I yawned with him too, a very infectious action. I never realized how exhausted I was, nor did I bask in the shores of sleep that night.

As I dragged Carter back to the quarters we were assigned and wrote of our long journey here all night, I had thoughts about what we had done and what a great impact this was to have on D-Day's plans. I am glad to know that we had somehow prevented some major victory for the Axis Powers and that we saved, in a small way, these soldiers' lives by uprooting two rotten spies who wanted to destroy us. The next mystery, and it is probably not for me to search for, is to find out where little Marie is. My neck prickles when I think of her, but I can't think of where she could be. There are too many questions and too few answers and leads to follow.

~00~

This early morn was the meeting with the Generals, and needless to say, it is not worth saying what it is about. Yes, they said it was a good day's work and superior thinking, but it is not worth writing how they apologized for their behavior and disbelieving me. I find it disrespect to say others' faults, such as generals', so I will leave it as such as I find it hypocritical. There is no need to shame them further. I have no need of them and they mostly have no need of me. It is of equal feelings and _that_ is disrespect itself.

The captain of this boat says that we are about to land in Germany soon and that we need to prepare ourselves to duck and cover back into the wild darkness. Yes, we are back into imprisonment and Stalag 13, but it's for the better. And hopefully, Hansel and Gretel will receive their fair reward for committing treason against the Allied Forces.

Also, I can hope that I can get Carter awake. He's been sleeping like a log since we set sail and every time I try to wake him up, he swats me. I excuse him for that just because I kept him up all these days, but we need to _move_ and I do mean _move_ when we reach the shores of Germany. Carter can't be tired and groggy when we leave the ship. I need my extra pair of eyes!

The town of Bremerhaven is crowded with Krauts, especially the Gestapo, so the Captain has opted to land in Emden, southwest of Bremerhaven. It is closer to Hammelburg and it'll take a shorter time to reach it. Maybe we can escape those trigger-happy goons…

We have just landed and docked. I hope that we may reach back to Stalag 13 in one piece, for me and Carter both.


	12. Back At Stalag 13

**August 21  
****Stalag 13 at last! The Colonel's Quarters – 1150 Hours**

At long last, Carter and I have arrived at home sweet home, home away from home – our very own Stalag 13, with its barbed wire, cold barracks, snappy but loyal dogs and stupid Krauts. I never realized how much I missed this home away from home until I saw it through the woods, its spotlights searching for escaped prisoners and its dogs snarling at the Kraut guards.

It took me a few days to regain whatever sleep I lost in this mission. I think it was worth it, despite Hochstetter being around here a lot. Yes, and I did write Hochstetter. What a _pleasant_ surprise to see him after, what? Eight months?

Rob, Baker, Newkirk and LeBeau were, of course, the first to greet us as Carter and we dodged the last of the lights, dogs, soldiers and Gestapo. Throughout the journey, from run to Emden, Oldenburg and Osnabruck and then the train rides through Münster and Essen and Düsseldorf and Hammelburg, there has been more and more Gestapo patrolling the areas and the S.S. even join them in their investigations and "fun and games" (as they put it as we passed them in Essen). It frightened me, and even my neck prickled, as Carter and I crossed the borders to every town and to each railway station. We arrived safely and the others were more than relieved.

Carter's replacement even left as we arrived, a total opposite of the exhausted and ready-to-drop-to-bed Carter. Even I was tired and I have been the one who withstood everything and have battled generals and manipulated spies by lying about our activities and trapping them in their own deception.

"Welcome back, 'ates!" Newkirk said excitedly as Carter dropped to the cot in the radio room, ready to sleep again. I had, after all, made him run through Germany after waking him from what seemed to be much-needed sleep.

I had popped into the room too, and to be frank, was worse for wear. I really did play the part of being sick that Rob told Klink about. And in being in such a way, I was in no mood to explain about England either. I expected questions about the mission and the others did ask the usual about the spies and how they were foiled (I avoided those like a plague). Newkirk threw inquiries at me and Carter about England's streets and girls faster than a pitcher at baseball throwing balls at the batter.

I listened to them all and groaned at every question of Newkirk's until I had enough, finally saying, "Newkirk, we didn't have time for girls or any such nonsense. I kept Carter away from them and the only one he saw was one that gave us directions to Rosemary Lane Back." Then the questions from Newkirk started again about that particular lane and what the girl looked like, until Rob ordered him to stop.

"Are you ready to tell us about it?" Rob asked me. Carter was then sleeping and snoring away, might I add.

"Maybe you can hear the Readers' Digest Condensed version," I answered (snapped, more like), "or, you can read the full-length volume later. You can have your pick."

"I think I'd 'ear everything 'bout it," Newkirk said.

"And I think we should all head to bed before Hochstetter catches us here," Baker suggested. Rob nodded. His new right-hand radioman is pretty good at knowing what he wants so far, as Kinch did…but I hate to say this because it's unfair to Baker, but Kinch was better and much more realistic. Baker states the facts and has not expanded, as far as I've known him.

"Yes, we should head up," Rob said, "and get the dummy out of the bunk." Rob then turned to me and said, "You mind if I read it later?" I knew that he was referring to me journal and I nodded.

Afterward, I don't remember exactly what happened next after I went up that ladder. I was more concerned about my bunk and how warm it was going to be after I get into it. I didn't even realize how dead beat I was until my head hit that pillow. However, I do remember waking up this morning, about the time we get ready for roll call, and it was dark outside. Rain threatened to come down on this not-so-sunny company of men and I knew the complaints were going to pile up about the weather today. That meant that social hour outside, not to mention exercises, were to be cancelled.

Rob and the others were outside of the Colonel's quarters, and as soon as I opened the door to Rob's quarters to join everyone for a cup of coffee, Rob came towards me so quickly and pushed me back into his quarters and shut the door. I was confused as I hit my bunk again. My head took a turn at it and was throbbing horribly.

"What the hell was that for?" I demanded, rubbing my head. "There is no reason –"

"Yes, there is a reason," Rob said. "Hochstetter's here again and has been waiting for you to wake up. He might have seen you come out."

Suddenly, I stopped rubbing the sore spot on my head. My hand froze midair and my neck prickled. I was speechless. What did that stupid Gestapo hoodlum want with me _this_ time?

"Well," I started weakly, putting my hand down, "what's your plan to stall him?"

"Just act your normal, sick self that you've been for the past week and a half," Rob said with a whispered rush. "You look it anyway."

I then understood what Rob wanted. I also knew that he was right about my appearance. Even as I heard boots stomping and the barracks' door opening, I didn't jump with fear. My neck still tingled with excitement, but I had to ignore it this time. Sitting on the bunk, I grabbed Rob's hands, as if he was teaching me how to walk again, and he took them. His hands were warm compared to the cold fear I wasn't showing at all. And so, as Rob helped me up from the bunk and walked backwards to the wall, Hochstetter barged in, and that was how he found us: Rob, helping me to walk and me, with a pale face (I felt the blood leave as soon as I heard the doors open) and appearing to the be the sick colonel Klink was probably telling Hochstetter I was (that was the amazing part).

Hochstetter, as usual, decided to address me nice enough, because I was supposedly sick. I knew that he wanted something and that I was that something he wanted: information.

"Ah, Colonel Michalovich," he said with a smile, "you're up and…about."

"Yes, Major Hochstetter," I answered, hopefully without any fear in my voice. "It's a wonder what a week and a half in bed – well, a bunk – can do with a sick person."

"Indeed, unless you were in England during that time," Hochstetter answered me hotly, quickly getting to his point as he usually does, "and pointing fingers at people who work for us!" Although I loved that Hochstetter didn't play nice-nice with us this time, it is still chilling to hear him directly accuse me of doing so. Then, I might have underestimated _how_ many Kraut spies are in England.

Still holding onto Rob's hands and walking him forward as if we were really getting me to walk after a week and a half, I said, "Again, Major Hochstetter, you are sadly mistaken." Avoiding a chair at the desk as I walked back to my bunk, I continued. "I have been here the whole time. There are no hopes of escaping Stalag 13, as everyone knows. I've lost the will to escape long ago. And you can blame that on Klink. I just don't know _how_ he does it." I sat down on my bunk, Rob letting me go as I did.

"It is not the case here," Hochstetter said coldly, the opposite of his response earlier. "My spies in England have detected a woman of your standing and a man, who resembles Sergeant Andrew Carter, walking free. Both of you were seen walking down a street, if you can imagine, to where two of our spies were residing. Do you deny that?"

All I could give our nice, local Gestapo agent was another blank face. It was the same one that I gave him the first car ride I had with him, the day I deemed him the Hangman of the Stalags. I knew that it infuriated him more than anything that I did or who I am. So, when I saw that vein in his neck pop out I was ecstatic (I love playing with the Krauts and creating anger in them). I kept it to myself, however. Even to anger Hochstetter more than I already did can have deadly consequences (either that or it can be a hazard to someone else's sanity and wellbeing).

So, having him unable to read my mind, I answered Major Hochstetter. "I can deny that. First of all, I have been sick for almost two weeks. Second off, I can't leave my bed when I'm sick, and as you've seen, I couldn't exactly _walk_ until today. And thirdly –"

"Blah!" Hochstetter screamed at me. I think he was angrier than I had anticipated for he pulled me up, like a limp doll. As I was playing the role of the sick colonel, I fell to the ground, feeling Hochstetter's boot contact my left side. By then, I was _really_ unable to get up and I even heard Hochstetter's voice boom loud. "I know that you were in London and you escaped Stalag 13. When I have the evidence to condemn you, heads will roll!"

At that point, I think I pissed Hochstetter enough to have him leave the camp because he stormed out of the barracks (most likely, his ranting was heard in town). As I lay on the floor still I heard a car roll, the Main Gate creeping open.

Rob helped me up, long after Hochstetter left. "I don't think you can help jell-o legs gain its strength back," I commented, referring to the way I couldn't even stand up straight. I was still scared from this visit from Hochstetter as I usually am.

I did manage to sit back down on my bunk as Rob answered, "Oh, yes you can. It is just a matter of finding where the weak points are."

I laughed and tucked myself into the bunk. Pulling up my shirt as I rolled over (my back was to Rob), I saw that I had a bruise from Hochstetter. No matter. It didn't bother me, but what did was how comfortable the bunk felt. I still don't realize how tired I am, even after taking that nap. Rob did keep everything quiet for me and Carter and we slept well. However, I still _feel_ as if this amazing chance to escape from Germany had slipped away from my fingers. I know that, even if I didn't take this perfectly golden opportunity to my advantage, I still feel, as this mission winds down, that something is missing. I _know_ that I forgot something and to reach into my brain to grab it is impossible right now.

Oops, I see Schultz through the window. This day is bringing some fresh air and I know that he's been worried about how sick I am supposed to be, so I try to enlighten him by saying how ok I truly am. I bet he wants to play a game of poker with me and the guys because I'm stuck here, on orders of Klink, until tomorrow.

By the way, Carter _didn't_ win that bet with Newkirk. Oh, you know what it was! It was the one where Carter bet Newkirk that Schultz would lose most of his pay (Carter said three quarters to Newkirk's half, if I remember right from when we talked in London) in last week's poker game. Indeed, Schultz lost _half_ of his pay this time. And so, Carter had to _pay_ Newkirk five American dollars (not the ones we make in the tunnels though), with much complaint. It was something about not being here to see what happened and that witnesses were not around to see the game, although I think Rob resides over most of the games.

Men…how their spirits remain childlike becomes a mystery to me and it is always one that I cannot solve. It drives me insane.


	13. Fears and Nightmares

**August 24  
****The Tunnels – 2145 Hours**

I had just woken up from a ghastly dream.

I'm down here for a reason. Baker had asked that someone stay down here and watch the radio for a while since an important message from London is suppose to come in concerning Hansel and Gretel. They are to tell us whether or not they confessed their crimes against the Allied Forces and whether or not they will stand a trial or not. It'll for good for us if they receive their award for aiding the Krauts, but this nightmare bothers me more than this message. I'll be the first to admit that, yes, it was about Auschwitz again. I had not experienced a nightmare about that unspeakable place since last year's fights to battle it out of me and keep focused on the operation and not the past. This one, at least I didn't wake up screaming to. I am only sweating and am cold with fear.

All I could remember was this dream was walking through the Main Gate of the central camp, the one with its infamous sign. It seemed that I was invisible for no one called out to me or even noticed me at all as I passed. All around me were prisoners working for their freedom. The brutal guards never even noticed the ghost I was, ambling past them and wondering, in horror, what I was doing here again. I feel almost _tied_ to this place, if it I was avoiding Fate, but Fate keeps bringing me back here. Except this time, I wasn't a part of the group of ill-treated prisoners, but that of someone _reliving_ it.

In this dream, I kept moving forward as if some force were pushing me to walk. All the parts of the camp were revealed to me as I strolled, but I reached some section of the camp I didn't remember seeing or being moved to. It was another block, but I didn't know which one it was and I still can't recall it to memory. I knew that it was far away from where I was stationed last.

Just as naturally as I thought about how I've never seen it before, it was expected that curiosity almost captured me and it did. I eased open the door, creaking as I opened it. There was no light as I looked in. It was dark inside. The smell of Death wasn't there in there, as if it disappeared altogether. I was again curious about that. Something wasn't _right_ here. What I meant to say was…there was a dark block and not a sensation of Death washing over you…strange. There is no life here and no such thing as Death, too.

I went inside, but as soon as I went into the block, there was this sudden blinding light. I couldn't see and tried adjusting it, but when I did bother to see through the light, I saw children. There were children with dark, sullen eyes staring at me. One of them, a little girl of about four was there. _It seemed as if I knew her from somewhere._ It was my last thought in the dream. That was when I woke up.

This was all I could remember. It was vague in detail, the invisible spirit in me. It was also more chilling to see those children, having to go through this ordeal and possibly die from labor or the gas chambers.

I can't believe that – oops, there goes the radio. I'd better stop writing now. This has got to be the message from London! _Concentrate, Nikki, concentrate!_

**August 25  
****The Colonel's Quarters – 0225 Hours**

I just had a horrible idea, all in thought to that nightmare I had. Thoughts of terrifying dreams came after the good news though. It was after we had received that message from London on a job well done. The news was that Hansel and Gretel are to stand trial for their treasonous activities, the verdict most likely to be guilty, that I celebrated. I was so excited that I ran back up to the barracks to tell Rob.

Of course, I was forgetting that Baker was sleeping there (I knocked him over the bunk and gave him a rude awakening when I opened the tunnels up). But when he saw the enthusiastic features on my face, he overlooked this little accident and smiled. "What news from the north, Ma'am?" he asked me as I turned on the lights and caused a ruckus among the men. My exhilaration and thrill from this piece of news from England was no excuse to wake _all_ of them up in the barracks. And so, the yelling brought out Rob in his pajamas and robe.

"What's the meaning of this?" Rob yelled on top of all of the other excited men.

Smiling in all of this chaos, I chose to holler back. "If you all believe me, I can say that our lovely agents are being brought to trail, as we speak, and are –"

The voices were louder and interrupted what I was going to say. Instead, this time, the men were just as thrilled as I was when I heard the news firsthand. Crowds were forming out of the bunks and were around me. Everyone was chattering away and exchanging cigarettes in merriment. Rob was grinning. He was thinking about the evidence that London might have found in their little hiding hole at Rosemary Lane Back and how we have, again, successfully found out another plot to destroy us. It was too much!

And then we heard the guards coming.

Rob panicked for a split second as he too heard them. Then, just as the door opened, he said, "One, two, three…that's it men, keep going!" At the time, simultaneously as the door opened, the men, all in their night clothes (even me) were dancing to cover up what we were doing (celebrating the news from London, of course). Lit cigarettes were in many a mouth and the men tried to fight who was going to grab me, but LeBeau had the chance to waltz with me as Rob counted our steps. It was the perfect lie and one we have practiced so many times in so many different instances such as crowding.

As we played with this masquerade, Klink and his commando of guards came inside. Schultz was just one of many of them laughing and snickering at our antics, although I believe that Schultz was thinking that we were up to some "monkey business," as he has always called it.

"What is going on here?" Klink bellowed as Rob continued to count up our steps, but by the time our lovely kommandant demanded our cooperation, he signaled that we stop. LeBeau halted me and held me by the hands as we waited to listen to this potential laugh fest played by, no less, Klink, Schultz and Rob.

"Oh, hi, Kommandant," Rob addressed as he pushed himself through the crowds in the barracks. He inched towards the barracks' door and stood face-to-face with our German captors.

"Hogan," Klink started, "I've seen you build a bowling alley, enjoy your fireworks and even played along with your harvest holidays. But _dancing_ at one in the morning?"

"It's one in the morning? Where has the time gone?" one of the men, Corporal Hinkerless, joked, tapping his watch as the remaining company laughed.

"Hogan, silence your men!" Klink stomped his foot. "This is insolence! Schultz, put that man on report!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz said. "But Herr Kommandant, they are RIGHT. When I go to –"

"Ah, shut up," Klink said, obviously becoming more and more irritated with everything as the moments passed. "Hogan, as punishment for your men, you shall fallout an hour early this morning and if there is any more of these nightly activities, it'll be _two months_ in the cooler for everyone in these barracks. Dddddddiiiiiiiiiisssssssss-missed!" Klink saluted and left, with his scoffing guards, in a huff, angry about this. But the news in London is better, and much worth the celebration, than the early fallout. Who cares if we were to have roll call earlier than normal? Two spies are out of business and all that matters if that we're not! The operation is still up and running!

As soon as Klink left, our little party broke up. Everyone was hitting the sack again so that they can stay awake for the early roll call, which was in four hours. LeBeau had let go of me and jumped to his top bunk in a hurry, the one above the entranceway to the tunnels. Carter and Newkirk hopped to their bunks too (Newkirk's long, wavy nightie is still comical to me) and Baker was _just _able to go back to his post, the bunk of which revealed the secret operation, until I thought of it.

"_Hogan…have your men…ammo dump…storm blew away plans and the Germans shot down seven of our ten planes…grab the…at Monowitz …and…destroy…"_

Monowitz…the trap I was thinking about…the missing child Marie and how Hansel and Gretel didn't seem so worried about them and demanded that we don't search for her because the old woman was taking care of it. That cryptic message said it all. A piece of it left a clue as to where their child was left and for who knows what reasons. _They dumped their child in one of the worst places known to man today_._ What did the poor child do to deserve such a Fate as that?_

Just as Baker was able to hit his head against his cold pillow and go back to sleep, I pushed my way through man and wooden furniture to get to where I wanted to be: the radio room. London had to know about this and fast! A life could depend on it and I don't _care_ if it was only a child! Her life meant the same as mine and everybody else's here!

I tapped the bunk, not caring that the Krauts could have opened the shutters and shone their lights and spotted me escaping. Baker jumped back in surprise. "Ma'am, what you think you're –" he started as he tumbled aside again.

"There's no time to talk!" I said as I climbed down (Rob was running down after me, as was LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk and then Baker, as he recovered from his shock). "There is a life that could depend on this message and I have no _time_ to explain _anything_. Just trust me! Let me through!"

I hastily went down to the radio room, jumping down the last few steps in the ladder. I felt my ankles ache from impacting the ground as such, but didn't care. Feeling as if I took more time in getting to the radio, I ran and all but tripped over the chair, putting on the headset, pushing the buttons and adjusting the frequency so that I can contact someone at the Head. I knew that there were no Gestapo trucks around because Hochstetter took them away, so I knew that it was safe.

I was also in luck that night: I contacted someone (Baby Bear, who usually takes in our message, no matter the time) at High Command just as all five men reached me, all of them confused. "Baby Bear, this is Desertstar, come in Baby Bear. This is an urgent message, and I repeat, this is an urgent message!" I didn't bother to secure my voice or change it in some distorted way, but I was in such a panic that I didn't care.

Eventually, after a few seconds of static and my frantic breathing, I had someone answer. It was Baby Bear and obviously he was a little tipsy tonight. He usually is.

Slurring his words at first, Baby Bear found his stance and made out some comprehendible words. It took a while, but I kind of understood the basic gist until he created a full, sober sentence. "Desertstar, this is Baby Bear. What seems to be the problem tonight, old lady?"

I sighed with this laughable voice. He must have thought that this was another joke or something in the triumph over what we found, but I set it straight. Drunk or not, an emergency was an emergency and he should have been taught that when he was trained at the radio! "Baby Bear, I repeat for the third time, this is an urgent message. Hansel and Gretel have left a delicate package at Monowitz in occupied territory. I repeat: Hansel and Gretel have left a delicate package at Monowitz. Do you copy me?"

I heard silence on the other end, but I knew that I didn't lose Baby Bear because his breathing was still heard. I could almost _smell_ the alcohol in his breath and again was regretting not staying in England with Carter. I knew Baby Bear also felt disbelief again (I think I sobered him up once more with these radio messages) for I heard, "Desertstar, can you confirm that? There is no evi–"

_People are so slow tonight_, I thought as I said, "There is. There is that memorandum from Hansel and Gretel we had, plus the implications they mentioned when they were visited last. Send a postman there to get it and be careful on this trip. There are a lot of dangers everywhere!" I was panicking again.

"Roger, I copy, Desertstar. I'll review it with the betters. And considering the noise you made with the betters, they would not be pleased with this latest night message. I have many thanks for this speech and not by the book. Over and out." The radio went dead afterward and I left myself with the headset still on and the microphone in suspense in my hand.

I slowly, after a few minutes, realized my position and took everything off of me. For a few seconds, I remembered that I spoke without the code to London and almost put the operation in danger again. Then incredulity washed over me. I couldn't believe it – I still can't – that that was the trap they set for me, because they _knew_ what happened to me. And they wanted to prove it to Hochstetter who I was, how I acted and the positions at Stalag 13. We were in a lot more danger than I thought.

"Do you mind telling us what this is about?" Rob demanded as I sat there with thoughts flying in and out of my head.

"You heard it, as did everything else in this room," I snapped back, well aware that my emotion was coming before reason again. "If you think about it, and not criticize my paranoid thoughts, then you'll know." And with that, I left and came back here to write. I am still pissed at Rob for not seeing the gravity of the situation and he damned well think about it while he stews about _my_ actions, ones in which he should have figured out!

It is only two hours before roll call and I still can't sleep. Rob isn't in here, but outside in the main room, talking. I don't feel like eavesdropping today so I might as well leave him as is and not torment him later with my own rages. I have more important thoughts to ponder and a child, constantly on my mind, needs to be saved from her parents' follies. If I could save a life from there, then I could go the lengths to do it, hands down.

Feelings of despair come upon me in this hour. It just seems that my nightmares keep coming back in real life and I had hoped to escape them…but it will forever come behind me.


	14. War Without Tears

**August 30  
****Outside the Cooler – 1430 Hours**

It has been five days and there has been no word from London about anything. There have been no missions, no assignments and no sign of Marie. The Underground has been quiet, the camp is at a standstill and Klink is still fuming about the late-night party from earlier this week. There isn't anything new about this, but when Schultz also knows nothing and tells the actual truth for once, then the place is dead. He has no information about what Hochstetter was talking about previously and he seriously has no clue about those spies Carter and I uncovered. Not even apple strudel and chocolate bars from the Red Cross packages, which came in two days ago, can change his mind. Although the bumbling guard ate his fill, we didn't receive anything in return.

Otherwise, there has been no new news (no news is good news?) lately, other than Newkirk being sent to the cooler. He was caught outside the fence three nights ago (just about to head out for another date with another woman in Hammelburg) by Schultz (thank G-d) and was dutifully sentenced to ten days in the cooler, but Rob reduced it to three. So here I am, waiting for that girl-crazed soldier who was already warned _not_ to misuse the tunnels as a way to meet other woman.

Klink was reluctant in sending Newkirk off his merry way, but Rob persuaded him, if not bewildered him further. I remember something in their conversation this morning as they fought again about poker games, spinning a wheel and a helpless family in England. Mostly, I heard about a poor, starving family, but I think Rob was exaggerating again. Newkirk, from what I've heard, had been roaming the streets of London since he was a child (his family seemed nonexistent, from what I've heard) and recruited when the war started, assigned to the Royal Corps, then to Berlin. I believe he was caught there, explaining why he was shadowing Hitler. I know, for sure, that Newkirk's excuse was that he was trying to pickpocket Germany's Führer!

But there is enough of chaos and confusion nowadays and even enough of me not recalling exact details of the dealings of the camp and what lies we have to tell Klink when we're up to no good. My mind is still blank, but full of contemplations of Marie and her crises. I still need to know that she is safe (in good hands even!) and that she will be well-provided for.

And so it goes.

**September 2  
****The Colonel's Quarters – 0315 Hours**

Marie has arrived here safely and _alive_. The little girl has been battered, beaten, misused and mistreated, but she is alive and well. She has been treated medically, but she is afraid of her future and the people around her because of what she has been through.

My heart broke when I saw this thin little girl with her large blue eyes and tangled black hair. The agents, codenames Merlin and Arthur (again, I think it goes back to her earlier child stories and her love of the fairy tales), had brought the little girl, through their journey from Poland to here, and already they have gained some trust of her. She is still suspicious of those around her, especially in this new environment called the tunnels of Stalag 13. Hence, as she came down the ladder of the emergency tunnels with the two agents in Gestapo uniforms, that she started screaming in fear (harder for us, she only speaks German). Apparently, her time in England has not taught her the English that everyone here communicates with. Therefore, I felt responsibility for her. I know her fright, her pain and even her visions of disaster and condition.

_Games without frontiers, war without tears…_

As the five men and I covered our ears and wished the guards above us not to hear this menacing scream, Merlin calmed Marie down to a whimper. Arthur, I could tell, was not sure how to comfort the child (I figured, as the six of us lowered our hands from our ears, that he only came for the ride because an extra pair of eyes was needed). The child clung to Merlin's legs, not allowing herself to let go of safety and this person who she considers to be some good guy who took her away from something bad.

This was when Rob had to face the dangerous truth, the truth about the radio call from a week before: we had to keep the child here for a few days, before the Krauts find her missing, and then another agent could pick her up and given to relatives in England. Her parents are of no use to her anymore (indeed, they have to stand trial and are sure to forfeit their custody of Marie) and have condemned her as undesirable anyhow.

"So," Arthur began as the child hid behind him and Merlin, "we'll be leaving her here until the next agents –"

"Wait a minute here!" Rob said panicking and almost ready to sock the person. "I had thought that we were keeping you here overnight and heading you out in the morning." His thoughts, by his feelings his face was betraying, were saying something to the affect of _I didn't expect a child as the prisoner being rescued! We're a prison camp, not a babysitter service!_

"Colonel," Merlin said as Marie almost toppled him over by means of his legs, "there is no way. The Germans are behind us and have suspected that we stole the child for rescue purposes. The Gestapo has been following us for five days through the countryside and they have been shooting at us from behind when we're spotted. They have not seen us here. But the orders were this: we have to keep her here for a few days and the next agents will pick her up. Our mission is over."

Rob groaned with disgust, but I agreed with this plan. The Krauts were surely behind them and perhaps, they have found them coming here (contrary to what Merlin said), which Hochstetter suspects as the center of espionage activities. But the counter argument, Rob's of course, was that this wasn't a place for a child. This was a _prison camp_ and not a daycare for kids. The next was this: _where_ are we going to put a skittish child who's bound to have us discovered as she leaves the tunnels? _There has to be someone that he can trust other than the Underground agents_. The five men had no idea what to do, but I had some vague plans in my mind. And I knew that Rob and I were going to argue about it later.

There was silence after the revelation. Thoughts were unspoken, but the most prominent one was that these two had to be going, and leaving soon. Marie had to be left here and someone had to watch her. And I knew exactly what to do to achieve her trust.

"May I try?" I asked Merlin as he tried to step aside and reveal the child in the awkward silence. He shrugged his shoulders at me and moved forward, putting the light on Marie.

Scared that her shield was gone, she cowered in the corner of the entrance. _This is perfect_, I thought sarcastically as the men behind me watched me as I walked towards Marie. Trembling, Marie tried clawing me as I came over. I stroked her mused hair and gently picked her up. But she was having none of it, and she succeed in scratching me (and it was a good job, I might add) in the arm. I dropped her, but she was unhurt.

However, instead of trying to hide in her corner, Marie sat forward and stared at me. Obviously, I was someone different and I didn't give up. I didn't beat her for tearing me apart or bring her someplace and reassure her of an unhurt ordeal, when it wasn't to be. _I'm winning her over_.

I then had another thought. If she knew where I came from too, then maybe she'll know that I also know of this horror. So, as the five imprisoned men behind me protested and asked that I leave her alone (like they knew anything about children), I kneeled down and started to strip off my shirt. The chill in the tunnels gave me goosebumps, but I didn't mind. All that mattered is that Marie saw my tattoo and acknowledged that I was there too.

She did. I stripped down to my uniform's undershirt and rolled up the sleeve, showing a faded tattoo. Not only did Marie stare at the blue form, but she showed me a light in her saucer eyes that said, _I can't believe it. You know this, too?_ Immediately, she jumped for my arms and from then on, she has not left my side (I didn't even bother to grab the clothes I left in the tunnels, which I did later). Arthur and Merlin escaped as fast as they could without Marie seeing them and thanked me for taking her out of their hands.

Carter, Newkirk, Baker and LeBeau saw the significance of this and asked me, in loud voices, what they can do to take care of Marie. Rob began another headache and followed the six of us up the barracks. I knew Marie was my charge. She'll be a little troublesome for the next few days, as she _is_ a child, but at least I know that she's safe.

For the next few hours, as I blocked the crowding men from the Colonel's quarters, I washed Marie's face, body and hair, gave her some of my smaller clothing, dressed her and brushed her long black hair. I even told her some fairy tale stories (I ruined a few of them, but I think she understood) and sang her to sleep. As I tucked her into my bunk, I felt a feeling of security and warmth for her, a motherly feeling that I have never felt in years. I know that I couldn't adapt her, but this was another step in taking her to a saner life. She never had that great start much as I had, but having her recognize me as someone who cares can change her perspective of the world.

Right now, I'm watching her sleeping form toss and turn. I sigh, hoping she won't be caught by the Krauts. But in my heart of hearts, I know that she'll lead a happier life after flying away from the Stalag 13 nest. And it will be an empty nest indeed when she leaves.

Oops, here's Rob. He's ready for bed and has had enough of the excitement this night. He hasn't bothered me about Marie ever since he protested, as senior officer here, that he has right over who comes here and who gets to stay here. I know, too, that he held back his opinion that Marie should bunk elsewhere and not in these quarters. It's all about the operation, really. I know it and Rob has always reminded me of it on a daily basis. I care about it as much as the next person here, but there has to be some rule in there that says, under all caution, that children can be sent here and be housed here before heading to England. They have had their innocence taken away and now it's our responsibility to make their lives saner again.

Damn, I'm asked to blow out the candle by a crabby Rob. I can cuddle next to Marie and try to sleep off the nightmare that I have experienced these past few weeks. In all possibility, I can stay up and consider what has happened this past night to a little girl in a fairy tale life, deprived of her parents and of a reasonable life. This is what a day in a life of a prisoner there is still like.


	15. Hope for the War to End

**September 7  
****The Tunnels – 1950 Hours**

Marie has happily left this past hour. She has been cared for by me and the remaining men in the barracks. Much to Rob's amazement, and with LeBeau's help, she has grown a little more plumb and has chattered happily in German to the men, although they just smiled and nodded (I think only a few understood her, like Olsen and Wilson). I just hope that she is as glad to be in England as she was here, the happiest days of her life after that terrible time. She has started to trust the world again, little by little, and I am happy for it.

Best of all, only Schultz caught her in a bedcheck last night, so that wasn't so bad. All he asked was that we take her away and get her out before our lovely kommandant saw her and we did. A promise is a promise to Schultz and whatever we can do to ease his load, we can.

Life here has gone back to what it was supposed to be for us normal prisoners of war. We have been good for Schultz: playing card games, not gambling and escaping. We were even being on time for a roll call. Everyone has been accounted for every time and behaving themselves. Later, I plan to ask Klink whether this calls for some extra rations of white bread and a hot shower for all the men for two weeks (maybe the remainder of the month) if we're all good little prisoners and not digging tunnels, taking radio messages and running missions for London. But the latter three cannot be avoided. Messages are bound to come by sooner, if not later this evening.

I can _feel _that this war is going to be over soon. It's only September. So much can happen in the next year and because D-Day has pushed the Kraut's plans back for three months. Hochstetter hasn't caught us yet and we have escaped his grasp so many times because of cunning thinking and ingenuity. Maybe in this next year, in the chilling German winter and short spring and summer, we could outsmart the Gestapo and the Krauts more. They may suspect something is going on here, but they have no evidence that we prisoners are doing anything. And we can thank Rob for all of this.

Damn, Rob has just popped his head down here. Roll call has been over for an hour, but now that Marie is gone, he can argue with me about that week. "Don't you feel lucky that Schultz only caught her?" he boomed. I'm not flinching and it infuriates him more that I'm here and not up in the barracks, like what was ordered by him. I wanted to see Marie off and not watch the guys play card games. It's a good enough excuse.

This is my cue and a time to stop writing.

I'll miss you, Kinch…rest in peace, my brother.


End file.
